A Pinky Joe Curly Tale
by DoofusPrime
Summary: Welcome, readers!  Gather 'round with Kim, Ron, and the rest of the Possible clan as James weaves a tale of his college years.  Listen and learn as he teaches us the joys of friendship, love, lab rats, and plasma blaster-equipped cybertronic battlesuits!
1. Just Like the Old Days?

**A Pinky Joe Curly Tale**, by DoofusPrime

_**Notes** - Here's a story I've had in mind for a long time. Kim and Ron are in it (and a couple) but the focus is on James and his college experience. Which experience in particular, you can probably guess. __This is rated T just to be safe, but it's probably closer to a K+. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. This work was not created for profit. No copyright infringement is intended._

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**Just Like the Old Days?**

XX

Amazingly, James could still remember the drive he had taken many years ago. The details were different than they were now, if he was remembering them correctly at all, but the experience – the feeling - was still clear in his mind. Closing in on the college, taking a last twist in the road past sun-dappled trees, the weather still warm even though summer was drawing to an end; seeing the sign beside the road as they hit the edge of the campus, along with a fluttering welcome banner staked into the ground nearby for incoming students; knowing a chapter of his life had closed, and the next would soon open.

He looked into the rear view mirror at his two sons, wondering if they were going through the same feelings.

"Are we there yet?" asked Jim.

"Yeah," said Tim, "it's like we've been in the car for hours!"

James shook his head. Maybe not. They definitely seemed more at ease than he had been.

"Are you guys kidding?" asked Kim. "We've been driving for fifteen minutes."

"Still, that's a long fifteen minutes."

"I _do_ have to hit the bathroom," said Ron. "Jumbo soda at the Bueno Nacho drive-thru? Not a great idea."

"I told you to go before we left, Ron."

James looked over and smiled at his wife in the passenger seat as they listened to his children and son-in-law – who also felt like one of his children – chattering in the back. Jim and Tim weren't kids anymore, he had to remind himself, although sometimes it didn't seem like they had grown up at all. They had both gone through stunning growth spurts a few years ago, so they definitely _looked_ like adults. They took up most of the back seat, and the fact that Kim was pregnant didn't help, either. Ron was forced to sit in the trunk, which didn't seem all that safe, but James was driving slowly, and he had tricked out the car with some added safety measures anyway. It was no Sloth, but then, he didn't need his car to go underwater or shrug off plasma beams shot by supervillain foes.

Maybe he was getting soft in his old age. He knew Jim and Tim would have preferred replacing the station wagon's state-of-the-art collision-absorbing bumper ring with some kind of equally state-of-the-art aerodynamic system that sent the car hurtling forward at near light speed. In the past, James would have heartily agreed. But then, sooner or later, the twins would have their own cars, and he was partly to blame for turning the two of them into speed demons.

"Here we are!" he announced.

"Drive slow, Mr. Dr. P," said Ron as they approached a speed bump. "My bladder is very sensitive right now!"

James hit the speed bump slowly, although he still heard a groan from the back.

The wooden sign he remembered so well loomed up after a last twist in the road. The hill on which it rose seemed a little more landscaped than he remembered; flowers and bushes were planted in such a way that they cleverly formed the college initials, M-I-S-T, which were spelled out across the sign itself in no-nonsense white lettering. The Middleton Institute of Science and Technology. James was glad his two sons had chosen to follow in his footsteps, although with their interests and the quality of MIST's learning institutions, it hadn't been a hard sell.

The station wagon pulled into a big parking lot on the edge of campus. It was fairly crowded already, as new students and their families were streaming in for freshman orientation, but James was lucky enough to find someone backing out of a spot close to the edge of the lot, where the main campus buildings began. He and his family streamed out of the car. After an orientation meeting scheduled in about fifteen minutes – they had left the house just in time – they would be checking out Jim and Tim's dorm room, which the two of them had insisted on getting for the full college experience, despite living so close to home.

James didn't mind, really. He knew Jim and Tim just wanted to try new things out, and they weren't planning to drop contact with their parents as soon as they began the collegiate life, although Anne had her worries. They had also paid for the expense themselves. A few clever inventions had netted them enough money to pay for a large part of their college career already. He was proud, despite all the times his sons' inventions ended up malfunctioning and blowing out the garage door. It had reached the point where the garage door replacement guy gave him a discount and asked about his family every time he came over. Just another thing that would be changing once Jim and Tim moved out, James thought wistfully.

"Here, KP, hold on to my shoulder-"

"You don't need to baby me, Ron."

Kim got out of the car by herself. She was pretty far along – about eight months.

"Sorry," said Ron. "I was just worried Jim and Tim had crushed you since you're so big now!"

Kim shot Ron a withering glare. James chuckled; he had made that same mistake in the past.

"Dude," said Tim, "crush our sis? No way!"

Jim nodded in agreement. "I was totally scrunched up against the car door trying to make room for her. I thought I was gonna push the thing open and go flying out into the road!"

The group made their way across campus towards the orientation building, Ron occasionally flitting around Kim, who shooed him off. James was always amused at the sight. It definitely reminded him of how he acted when Anne had been pregnant.

Going to college had slowed down the pace of their missions just a little, as Kim had gone abroad for a year and Ron had been busy doing remedial work to get his grades up. Their relationship had hit a few rough patches after high school, but they had worked through it, ending up closer than ever. After their marriage near the end of college, they had graduated by the beginning of summer. His daughter had been taking another little break from missions lately due to the pregnancy, mostly to ease Ron's constant worries, but he knew they'd both be back in action a little while after the baby arrived. He and Anne would be happy to help out whenever Kim and Ron were busy saving the world from their latest supervillain foe.

"Hi!" said a student guide passing by with a group of people in tow. "You guys looking for an orientation group?"

James scoffed at the question. "I don't think so! I happen to be an alumnus - class of 1986! I think I can find my way around."

"Suit yourself."

The guide went by with his little group, pointing out landmarks and good spots to eat a bagged lunch in between classes, while James led his family onwards. After a few moments of aimless walking, however, he looked back over his shoulder. If the parking lot was that way, then they would be... just to the left of... over...

Anne put a hand on her husband's shoulder as they walked.

"Honey, do you actually know where the orientation building is?"

"I was just following everyone else," said James. "I thought it was in this direction."

"People are walking all over the place."

James looked at the other visitors milling aimlessly across the campus grounds. They _did_ seem to be going every which way. And it looked like the campus had gone through a few renovations since he had been a student. Some of the buildings were very familiar, but a few were new. "Hmm. Maybe I _don't_ know where I'm going. I guess I was busy reminiscing," he said with a chuckle. "Did we pass any signs back at the parking lot? Anyone?"

"Um, is it in that building over there?"

Ron pointed across an open area ahead of them, lined with cobblestone paths, well-trimmed bushes, and a few trees here and there. A gazebo stood in the middle of the little park area, which brought back some fond memories for James – but beyond that, he noticed the building Ron was pointing at. It wasn't the same place he remembered having _his_ freshman orientation, but they must have moved their visitor's center. He had missed the gigantic yellow "Welcome New Students, Orientation Inside!' banner hanging down from the roof and draped across the building's side, which was a bit of a hint.

"Good eye, Ronald. Alright, everyone, we'll be late if we don't-"

James had stepped onto one of the cobblestone paths cutting across the little park between campus buildings, but just as he reached an intersection between the hedges, he ran smack into someone coming from his right. He stumbled, taking a few steps back. He gasped in shock and took yet another step back at the sight of his old classmate. Not Chen or Ramesh, unfortunately.

"Hello, _Drew,_" he said, his voice barely above a hiss.

"James Possible. What are _you_ doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Lipsky."

Jim and Tim drew closer together, their enthusiastic expressions suggesting they were anticipating some kind of fight. Anne also drew closer to her husband. "Let's be friendly," she told him.

"Friendly? Of course – why wouldn't I be friendly? Drew's learned the error of his ways, after all."

"That's right, Possible! Er, wait, no – that's not right. My ways were never in error. I've just changed them so as to – look, I'm not a supervillain anymore, so I don't need any lip. I got pardoned, remember?"

"Yeah," said Kim. "After making some generous technological donations to Global Justice, I heard."

Drakken waved the point aside. "Details, Kim Possible. Anyway, I recently accepted a job as a teacher here at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology. My unparalleled genius and years of experience are in high demand." He turned from James and looked critically at Ron. "I see you're still with the buffoon, Kim."

"She's _married_ to this buffoon," said Ron.

Drakken eyed her belly. "And pregnant, too? Either that or you really need to get back into cheer practice."

Kim bristled at the comment, but before she could say anything, another voice came from down the little path where Drakken had appeared.

"Hey, Doctor D!"

James looked over the hedges and caught sight of Shego's head approaching them; Kim saw it too, and drew back a little as if tensing for an attack. Once Shego reached the intersection and appeared from behind the hedges, James was surprised to see a mirror image of his daughter. His Kimmie-cub wasn't the only one with a baby on board, apparently.

"Quit running around like a chicken with your head cut off," Shego told Drakken. "It's not like you're the first speaker at the orientation. We don't have to-"

She stopped mid-sentence as she noticed James and his family, gaping a Kim in particular.

"_Princess,_" she hissed.

"Hello, Shego."

The two of them eyed each other for a few moments. Jim and Tim were practically hopping up and down in anticipation of some kind of battle. Ron's eyes bugged out at Shego's swollen belly; from the looks of it, James couldn't help thinking she had gotten pregnant at about the same time as Kim. "Who's the father?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Drew," said Shego. "Duh."

"I guess I've been out of the loop. Wait, so you actually got a girlfriend, Drew?"

Drew struggled for a retort, but failed to find one. Sometimes, James thought, it was just too easy.

"I see you and Stoppable have been busy, too," said Shego as she eyed Kim's belly. Kim put her hands on it, a little defensively.

"That's right. How far along are you?"

"Seven months."

Kim smirked. "I'm eight."

Shego's eyes smoldered, cheeks twitching like she had just been dealt a smack across the face. "Yeah, well, let me guess – you're quitting your missions to become a housewife to Stoppable, huh?"

"Um, technically I'm Ron Possible now," said Ron. "And we'll be keeping up with the missions sooner or later."

"What about _you?_" said Kim. "It must sting to leave the whole criminal lifestyle behind and end up the wife of a college professor. Talk about boring!"

"Science is not boring!" shouted Drew. "It's a treasure trove of endless fascination!"

"Now, now," said Anne. "Let's all keep things civil, okay?"

"What are _you_ doing here, anyway?" Drakken asked James.

"My sons are enrolling."

"Ah. I see. I suppose that means I'll be teaching them."

"Awesome!" declared Jim and Tim in unison.

"Oh yes, I am sure it will be very awesome," cackled Drakken. "Or maybe fantastic, to choose a word starting with an F."

Jim and Tim's faces switched from excited to crestfallen in an instant. "Aw, man!"

James narrowed his eyes at his old schoolmate. "You'll be hearing from me if you engage in any academic shenanigans with my sons, Drew."

"Fight, fight, fight!"

Anne threw a menacing glare at her sons. Their fist pumping trailed off as they caught her look. Despite the fact that they were both nearly a head taller than her, they were cowed enough to quiet down immediately. "Okay," said Anne, "this is turning out to be very awkward, and we all need to be at orientation on time. Can we just let bygones be bygones?"

"Very well, Anne," said Drakken. "James knows I'm a much better bygone than he is, anyways."

"What's that even mean?" asked Ron.

"It – it just – it doesn't concern you, buffoon. Let's go, Shego!"

Although Shego was beginning to look a little amused at the sniping going on, she sighed apathetically as Drakken took her by the hand. The two of them walked off in the direction of the orientation building. James was about to follow, but, deciding he didn't want to be walking alongside them after that awkward exchange, ended up taking a circuitous route through the little park, trying to reach the building from the side. Kim was happy to join him and avoid Shego, but Ron, Anne, and the twins rolled their eyes in exasperation.

James was concerned. Seeing Drew Lipsky brought back memories. Being on this campus at all brought back a lot of memories, but most of them were positive ones. Still, today was not about him – it was about Jim and Tim. He was there to introduce the two of them to the wonders of the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology, to give them tips and sage advice on how to get through the whirlwind of college life - _not_ to settle unfinished business with Drew. He entered the orientation building, approaching a check-in table while making sure to put a lot of distance between his family and Drakken, who was already up ahead with Shego.

Hiring _Drew_ _Lipsky_ as a teacher? He hoped his beloved alma mater hadn't been lowering its academic standards.

XX

"And that's just a taste of what you can expect in my classes!"

The ball room echoed jaggedly with the sound of a few nervous claps. Drakken stepped away from the stage up front, where he had just demonstrated his latest invention – unfortunately, a small malfunction had left a blackened, scorched mark across the front of his blue button-down polo shirt, along with a noticeable lack of eyebrows on his face. James couldn't help smiling at the mishap. A little schadenfreude wasn't that bad, was it? The polo shirt and khakis were really throwing him for a loop, too – he was used to seeing Drew in that supervillain trench coat he always wore. And if _he_ thought the look was weird, he couldn't imagine what his Kimmie-cub must have been thinking after foiling the man's evil schemes for years.

He noticed Shego stepping up from her seat and helping Drew into his own adjacent with a brief worried look, although she caught herself at the last second and adopted a more apathetic one as she glanced hurriedly around the room. What a weird couple. Still, it took all kinds.

Several other teachers had already introduced themselves, talking about the university and their disciplines. Drew looked like had been the last teacher to speak. Now that he had finished, the elderly dean of the university stepped precariously up the little stairway to the platform, holding an ornate cane to help him walk. He approached the podium as the ballroom echoed with the rhythmic clicks of his cane hitting the wood floor. He cleared his throat into the microphone, sending a painful burst of feedback through the room. It took a moment, but James recognized the man. The cane and the pronounced stoop were both new. The frown was not.

_Dean Barker_, James thought, his brows lowering darkly. _Still here after all these years!_

"Thank you for that quite literally illuminating demonstration, Doctor Drakken."

The students and parents at the orientation meeting recovered themselves from their recent fright and gave their attention to the dean. James crossed his arms gruffly, although he wondered if Barker would even recognize him now. Just the sight of the man brought more memories flooding in. Things he hadn't thought about in years, things he had almost forgotten. He wondered if Drew was thinking about some of those same things.

"This upcoming year, I believe, will be one of our greatest on record. There are a number of exciting new areas of research on the horizon, and with the expertise offered by our newly upgraded staff, any student at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology can anticipate a fruitful..."

The man's voice faded out as James lost interest.

He could tell his two sons were losing interest, too. Dean Barker always had a certain coma-inducing quality about him, at least when he wasn't being irritating and overbearing; it was something about the way the man talked, or the way he carried himself. Now that he was much older, the effect was even _more_ pronounced. James could already hear faint snores coming up from various seats around the ballroom. Lost in the memories of his college days, he almost didn't notice when the speech came to a sudden end. A few scattered claps woke up the people who had fallen asleep. James even noticed one man fall out of his chair with a loud clatter upon waking up. The dean left the podium, and people began to rise from their seats.

"Alright," said James. "Let's get out of here!"

"What's the hurry?" asked Kim.

"I'd like to avoid Dean Barker."

"Oh, boy," said Jim, looking at Tim, who finished his brother's thought. "Dad's been in trouble with the deeean!"

"That's not it at all, boys. The dean and I just had a different outlook on things like the code of conduct, or what constituted dangerous and unacceptable campus behavior. You'll understand once you meet him, I'm sure."

"So let's go meet him!"

"No, we can't do that," said James nervously. "I have some things to show you outside-"

For the second time that day, he found himself running into Drew Lipsky. How the man had gotten from his seat near the front of the ballroom all the way to the back where James was sitting with his family, he had no idea. He grimaced, trying to sidestep his old classmate, but Shego appeared beside him, blocking his way. "Hey, Kim's dad," she said. "I was thinking we could all hang out a while!"

Kim gave her an incredulous look. "You want to hang out with us?"

"Well, not _you, _Princess. Don't flatter yourself. But I was thinking your old man could share a few stories about Drew back in the old days."

Drew gulped. "I don't think we need to hear any stories about the old days, Shego."

"Yeah, because you wouldn't come off looking very good," shot James.

"You wish, Possible!"

James tried to hurry out of the ballroom, but before he could reach the door, Dean Barker appeared, causing both himself and Drew to stop dead in their tracks. Apparently, the dean _had_ noticed him in the audience; judging by the speed which he had gotten here even with his cane and slow walk, the man had left the podium and made a beeline straight through the other families to reach him. "Barker," he said. "Nice to see you again!"

"Yes," said Drew, nodding awkwardly in agreement. "So nice. To see you. Again."

"That's _Dean_ Barker to you two. And you'll be seeing more of me now that you're working here, Mr. Lipsky."

Drew gulped; from the looks of it, he hadn't anticipated that part of his job description.

"I wouldn't have even hired you if the Board of Directors didn't overrule my concerns."

"Some people know genius when they see it," said Drew.

"You know," said James, "seeing as I'm not your student anymore, I don't really have to call you Dean Barker at all. And how are you still the dean, anyway?"

"Tenure, Possible. Why are you here? Is your daughter attending?"

"Kim? No, no," laughed James. "I tried to convince her – she does have a knack for the technical side of things, even if her brothers are a little better at it – but she wanted to go to Upperton, just like her mother."

"Upperton," said the dean, his voice dripping with contempt. "Nice to see you again, Anne."

Anne nodded politely. James was amused at the dean's reaction; although he seemed to look down on any college that was not the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology, he had no problem with Anne herself. His wife had attended a few classes at MIST, and apparently she made a good impression on just about everyone.

"It's my two sons," said James. "They're enrolling here at their father's alma mater."

"How pleasant. More Possibles to deal with. I'm sure I'll have my hands full."

James was about to make an excuse to dart away from any further conversation with Dean Barker, but fortunately, the man seemed to grow tired of talking – either that or, in his old age, he just plain forgot that he was in the middle of a conversation at all – and wandered off in another direction, cane clacking along the ball room's polished wood floor as he joined a nearby group of people to chat. James breathed a sigh of relief and made his way out of the crowded room, taking the exit and emerging into fresh air and sunlight, back to the little park square they had passed through earlier.

Drakken and Shego followed him out. James was beginning to realize he couldn't avoid _everyone_ today.

"Can you believe him?" asked Drew.

James had to agree. "The nerve of that guy."

"What," said Kim, "Dean Barker? What'd he do?"

"It's not what he did, honey, it's just – well, it's just what he did."

James' family exchanged confused looks, but he wasn't surprised they didn't understand. They hadn't gone to school under the tyrannical rule of Barker, after all. But Drew knew where he was coming from.

"Come on," said Shego. "You gotta know some juicy stuff about Drew."

"I sure do," said James. "But maybe we should leave the past to the past."

"Why would we do that?" asked Tim.

"Yeah!" added Jim. "Let's dredge up all your unpleasant memories!"

James looked to his wife for support for the second time that morning, but she gave him an amused smile and a shrug, as if telling him she couldn't help even if she wanted to. He knew Ronald would probably side with the twins, too. As a last ditch effort, he looked pleadingly at his daughter. For a minute it looked like Kim would agree, seeing as she probably didn't want to be around Shego any more than he wanted to be around Drakken. But instead, she smiled.

"Maybe not _un_pleasant memories," she said. "But there must be a neat story you can tell us about when you were here, dad. How about what happened with Pinky Joe Curly Tail?"

His own daughter had betrayed him! How could she rope him into spending an awkward afternoon with Drew Lipsky when she hated Shego so much? Then again, maybe he was overestimating their level of antipathy towards each other. They hadn't seen each other in years, after all, and other than a little competitive pregnancy going on, it wasn't like they were mortal enemies anymore. And, now that he thought about it, Pinky Joe Curly Tail was kind of a nice memory. He still missed that little guy.

"Alright," he said. "Maybe just _one_ story."

Jim and Tim exchanged high fives. "Score!"

James led his audience away from the orientation building as they made their way through the hedges and paths of the little landscaped park that marked the center of MIST's campus. "I guess I should start a little while before Pinky Joe, so you can understand what happened," he said. "Not so long ago, boys, your father was a just a boy like you two, without all the experience and worldly wisdom he has now. He was just starting grad school-"

James stopped and looked at Drew, remembering that his ex-friend was involved in the beginning of this story. He was involved in most of the story, actually. He could already see Drew interrupting him at every turn. But there was no way to avoid that now, and he had promised a story.

"I was just starting grad school," he continued. "Bob Chen and Ramesh were there, as was Drew's father, and we were all helping Drew move in. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd be meeting your mother soon. I also didn't know I'd be on the chopping block with Dean Barker for rat-related shenanigans. I was young and naïve, but the future was bright..."

XX

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_**Notes** - That's it, I hope you enjoyed it. And I appreciate reviews, of course. You might enjoy reading this story with another story of mine, _Pater Unfamiliar_ - both are standalone stories and you don't need to read one to get the other, but they share the same past and will have a couple of overlapping scenes in a later chapter that will hopefully be fun._


	2. Friends  and a Lab Rat!

**Friends – and a Lab Rat!**

XX

The sound of a bright future drifted through James Possible's open window. Okay, so technically the future didn't have a sound, exactly, but it was something in the way the birds chirped, the way college coeds chattered gaily with each other as they passed the sidewalk outside the townhouse window – James could hear the future in all of it, just beneath the surface. Like a whisper. And boy, was it looking bright.

Or maybe that was just the morning sunlight glaring right in his face.

"Hey, James!"

Bob Chen's voice came from downstairs. James sat up in his bed, where he had been laying down and listening to a record which had just finished playing. His friends were into CD's, but as far as James was concerned, they were just a fad. It was one of the few instances where he _wasn't_ on board with cutting edge technology.

"What is it, Bob?"

"He's here!"

Bob didn't sound too happy, but James was more excited at the news. He got up from the bed and looked out the window, down to the street which ran by their two-story townhouse. Bob was right. His friend must have arrived while he was listening to his music, so he didn't even hear the car pull up. It was parked next the sidewalk; not Drew's car, but his parents' car, James reminded himself. Drew didn't own one yet. And there his parents were, pulling luggage out of the trunk while Drew himself seemed to be taking his sweet time undoing the ropes which strapped a suitcase to the car's roof. He smiled at the sight of his friend. Same overdone haircut, same jean jacket, same black T-shirt with a scientific formula printed across the front in white letters. In short, same old Drew.

"Hey, Drew!" he shouted.

His friend looked up from the street. "James! Come down and help me, already."

"It sure looks like you're having a lot of trouble."

James left his bedroom and went down the stairs to help Drew get moved in. He and his two roommates, Bob and Ramesh, had already lived in the townhouse for a couple of years, but this semester would be the first time Drew was joining them. Bob and Ramesh had been a little skeptical of the idea, although James had reassured them Drew would be tolerable enough. Sure enough, his two friends were standing by the kitchen table downstairs, arms crossed stubbornly as they kept an eye on the open front door past the adjoining living room.

"Come on, guys," said James. "Let's be nice."

"I just hope he doesn't blow the place up," said Bob.

"He won't! I'll make sure."

"That is a funny thing for you to say, James," said Ramesh. "To be honest with you, we were concerned that _you_ would be helping him in blowing the house up."

"When have I ever-"

"Last year," said Bob, cutting him off.

Ramesh nodded. "And the year before," he added.

"Those were only minor explosions!"

His two friends stared, totally unconvinced.

"Okay, okay, fair enough. But this year, you two – this year, it's going to be different. You'll see!"

Bob and Ramesh rolled their eyes as they followed James out of the townhouse, joining Drew and his parents at the car out front. It was a beautiful day. Just at a glance, James could already see the block was bustling with activity – under the sun-dappled trees that lined the road, several other students and their families were getting moved into the other townhouses. They were in a neighborhood filled mostly with college housing, just outside of MIST's campus.

"James Possible," said Ken Lipsky, extending a stiff hand.

"Nice to see you again, sir," said James.

A beefy hand enveloped his own, and James winced as they shook. Drew's father was always a little stiff, a little standoffish, but at least he hadn't come to help his son move in to the townhouse while wearing his police officer's uniform – James had half-expected to see that when his friend arrived. Drew's mother, Claudia Lipsky, seemed to be her usual self, bustling about and adjusting her glasses, frizzy red hair bobbing about as she tried to wrestle a duffel bag out of the car's trunk.

"Ooh, look, dear! It's James!" Drew's mother approached him and put a hand under his chin, raising his head up as she inspected him. "You've grown up since we last saw you!"

"Didn't you see me just last year, Mrs. Lipsky?"

"Still, you've grown up!"

Ken tapped his wife on the shoulder. "Claudia, help me with the bags."

"Okay, Ken!"

Bob and Ramesh had been waiting awkwardly beside the car – after they greeted Drew's parents, Bob extended his hand to Drew himself. "Welcome to the townhouse," he said.

"Thanks, Chen!" Drew shook the hand enthusiastically. "I'm sure we'll be up to some exciting adventures over this next semester, especially if James still has our project around."

James ignored his friend's comment, trying to avoid catching the glance of Drew's father. Sometimes Ken Lipsky was just a little on the intimidating side. Sure enough, the man turned back just before entering the townhouse with a bag slung over his shoulder, looking suspicious at the sound of his son's comment. "I hope you're talking about projects to raise your grades and not fail any more classes, Drew."

"Of course, father!"

Ken nodded gruffly and disappeared into the townhouse, followed closely by his wife. Bob and Ramesh followed him soon after, carrying their own set of luggage, and James was about to join them when Drew laid a hand on his shoulder, taking him aside. James thought his friend was going to get him to carry more stuff – he had no idea how the Lipskies fit so much junk into one car, especially when it looked like Drew was bringing along some of his usual half-finished inventions – but instead, his friend spoke to him in a whisper.

"So, about the project," he said. "Is it still there?"

James nodded and winked. "It sure is. Don't you worry."

"Excellent!"

Drew finally finished undoing the ropes tied to the small briefcase on the car's roof and made a big show of dragging it down, while James took a last piece of luggage out of the trunk. Judging by its weight, he wondered if Drew had some kind of solid concrete block inside. He managed to keep hold of the thing without toppling over and brought it into the townhouse, sweating and grunting and almost running into Drew's father, before dropping it on the floor with a loud clang. _Maybe not concrete_, he thought. _Heavy metal._

"Watch out with that thing!" said Drew. "It's highly volatile!"

Drew's father narrowed his eyes. "I thought I said no more volatile-"

"Valuable. Highly valuable. Did I say volatile? Slip of the tongue," said Drew, chuckling nervously.

"Let's start unpacking."

"Actually, they can do that," said Drew, pointing to his friends. "We need to do a little finalization for my class schedule and admissions."

"What does _that_ mean?" asked his father. "I thought you had everything set up already."

"In a sense," said Drew. "In the sense that I do not."

James flinched at the sight of Ken Lipsky's facial features, which were scrunching together as he tried to repress his irritation. It wasn't like Drew's father was a violent man, from what he knew – and he had certainly never seen anything like that – but still, the man was a cop, and people who carried guns around on a regular basis made James a little nervous. It was also nerve-wracking to watch Drew constantly setting himself up for awkward situations.

"Alright," said Drew's father. "Let's go to the campus, then."

"Very well. Bob, Ramesh, James – it was great seeing you all again. I'll be back later, but in the meantime, could you all do me a favor and bring my luggage up to my bedroom? I call shotgun on the one with the window overlooking the street. Make sure you don't break anything or press any buttons. You'll know what I mean."

Bob and Ramesh looked like they were going to object, but Drew and his parents were out the door before they could say anything. Drew had called shotgun on James' room, but he'd just have to find out that there was no room with a window available when he got back later. James wasn't surprised to see him flee – it would have been amazing to see Drew arrive at the townhouse with a considerate attitude and everything ready to go. It wasn't the greatest start to their upcoming semester together, but he was still optimistic. The gang was all together now.

"I don't know about this," said Ramesh.

Bob adjusted his glasses as he looked at the closed front door. "I can't believe he left again already."

"Give him a chance, guys" said James. "I think now that he's fallen behind, maybe he'll realize he needs to pay a little more attention to his classes. Drew's a genius, you know. He just needs to apply himself."

"Yes, well," said Ramesh, "back in my home town, when people did not apply themselves, they ended up on the streets. I just hope that Drew Lipsky does not have that in his future."

"Your home town – where is that, again? Kerala?"

"No, I did not mean my _home_ home town. And that is not a town, anyway. I was referring to Brooklyn."

"Oh."

Bob looked at his watch. "We have our first class this afternoon. You guys think Drew will make it?"

"We will see," said Ramesh.

James frowned as the two of them began to drag luggage up the stairs. Maybe they were skeptical of Drew moving into the townhouse, and he could understand why, but they hadn't rejected the idea outright – they _had_ agreed to letting him move in, after all. That meant they were still giving Drew a chance. Not only that, but there they were, dragging Drew's bags upstairs just like he had asked.

Drew had been better friends with Bob and Ramesh early on in college, when the four of them had first met. While James and Drew were still reasonably close, Bob and Ramesh were becoming increasingly critical – not just of Drew, but of James himself. Those two liked to play by the rules, but James and Drew? Well, they were rugged individualists. No one could hold them down. But James knew his friend had been having trouble fitting into the college system in particular – Drew could be very stubborn, while James was more adaptable. Better at getting out of trouble, too.

It was a miracle Drew had gotten through _three_ years, but due to various academic problems, a period of probation, and a few failed classes, he was now behind them academically, still a senior working towards his bachelor's while James had just begun grad school with Bob and Ramesh. He knew he and Drew would both need to focus a little more. Things were getting serious. He couldn't coast on his intelligence like he had as an undergrad. And yet, now that Drew was here, he couldn't help thinking about the fun the two of them could have.

Particularly with that little project he had locked up in the big shed out in the back yard.

XX

It was time for the first class of James Possible's graduate education. He was familiar with the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology's campus by now, and he and his friends didn't need a map to find the right building. Drew was taking the class with him, but James hadn't seen his friend since he left with his parents to fix whatever problems he had been having with admissions. While Bob and Ramesh were in a different class, it happened to be in an adjacent building, and so the three of them walked together after leaving the apartment.

"Hey, guys! Wait up!"

James noticed Drew running towards them from across a grassy quad.

"It is about time," said Ramesh. "The first day of classes, and he is almost late."

Drew fell in step with his friends, breathing heavily. "We had some issues," he said, "but I managed to get the schedule straightened out. We've got that nanobiowhatsit class together in an hour, don't we, James?"

James shook his head. "More like five minutes."

"_Nnngh!_ I left my backpack at the house. And I don't have any textbooks, come to think of it – I'll have to get my parents to mail me some money later and take a look at yours in the meantime. You don't mind, do you, James?"

"Nope. I was expecting it!"

"As I was saying," said Bob, "I think the Society of Engineers would be a good group to join. Now that we're in grad school, we should really be networking more than we have been."

"I agree," said Ramesh. "And I hear they have some wonderful finger sandwiches at the club meetings!"

"Finger sandwiches _are_ nice," agreed James, "but I still don't know. Don't you think there's something a little silly about 'networking'? Making friends and socializing just to get ahead academically or get your foot in the door for a corporate career? It all just seems so – well, I don't know, _fake_."

"You can get your foot in the door and still make genuine friends, Possible," said Bob. "It's not just one or the other."

"I agree with James," said Drew. "Who needs to join some silly society? The four of us are smarter than anyone else here, anyway. Other people may need connections to get ahead, but we'll be the ones calling the shots soon enough!"

Sometimes Drew could exaggerate when he got himself going, but he had a point. James thought of himself as a modest man, but he was smart – all of them were. He had gotten through high school and college without expending much effort, and while people had been telling him grad school would be different, James wasn't convinced. They had said the same thing about ungrad, after all.

Oftentimes, just like Drew, he found classes and assignments to be too restrictive, too boring. His teachers didn't even know what they were talking about half the time. On several occasions in the past, a teacher would say "I'm not sure" or "Let me look that up for the next class" in answer to a student's question, at which point he would take the opportunity to answer it himself. Even more often, the teacher was too proud to admit they didn't know, and would just throw out an incorrect answer. James took even more pleasure in giving the correct answer to those questions, although it usually bugged his teachers to no end.

So he didn't see the point of jumping through the usual hoops. And yet Bob and Ramesh were talking about joining some engineering club all of a sudden. It seemed like a waste of time to him. Still, he'd probably go along with his two friends in the end. Even if the club ended up being a few screws short of a Transponder Array, being with his friends would make it worthwhile. And if he went along with it, so would Drew. James thought of himself as a sort of mentor to Drew. He was too modest to call himself Drew's idol, although _some_ might choose that word, but his friend did seem to go along with him when it came to most things.

"Alright," said Bob. "We're over there." He pointed to a nearby building.

"See you guys later," said James. "Good luck!"

"Thanks, James. Bye, Drew."

After their two friends headed for the other building, James and Drew entered the building where their class was waiting on the second floor. The usual crowds of undergraduates milled around inside, often freshmen with terrified faces as they raced to their next class. The two of them slogged their way through a crowd coming up the stairs before reaching the classroom door. James read a sign stenciled onto the marbled glass window:

_Introduction to Computational Methods of Nanobiotechnologies._

"Oooh, I'm so excited!" said Drew.

James smirked as he watched his friend rubbing his hands together, like he was hatching some kind of evil scheme. Drew had always had some strange habits like that, for as long as he could remember. And yet his friend's enthusiasm was infectious; James couldn't help feeling excited himself. "This should be fun!" he agreed. It was an introductory class he was taking as a prerequisite for something else. He was a little unsure about the 'bio' part, but who _wouldn't_ be excited about nanotechnology?

James and Drew entered the class and took their seats. It was already almost full, as they had been cutting it a little close – but at least he had his textbook with him, unlike _some_ people he could name. Drew leaned over and grabbed the book without asking as James took it out of his backpack. He flipped through it briefly before closing it again, like he was just putting on a show of reading it. "Interesting," he said. "Poor choice of cover. I don't know how a random tye-dye image represents nanobiotechnology. Maybe if-"

"_QUIET!_"

The voice was so startling that it almost sent Drew flying out of his seat. Their other classmates all snapped to attention, too. A massive woman strode into the room, dressed in a drab sweater stretched to its limit against her beefy frame and carrying a pile of textbooks. She dumped them on the desk and turned to face the class, looking over her students with a grimace, as if she had just flipped on a light and seen a bunch of cockroaches running off. For a teacher, she seemed pretty unhappy at the sight of actual students in her classroom.

"My name is Miss Anne Thrope, and this is Introduction to Computational Methods of Nanobiotechnologies. If any of you are in the wrong class, you can get out, NOW!"

The teacher grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote 'Miss Anne Thrope' across the blackboard. She was a large woman – not obese so much as abnormally bulky, like a bodybuilder – and she snapped the chalk in half before finishing her name. She grabbed another one with a loud grumble and finished writing her name, as well as the name of the class, before turning back to her students. "In this class, we will be-"

The classroom door opened. Everyone's heads turned at the sound, and if the classroom had been quiet before, it grew so quiet now that you could hear a pin dropping. James flinched, knowing that if another student was coming even a minute late, from the looks of it, they might be walking straight into the jaws of bulky female bodybuilder death. Sure enough, he saw someone linger hesitantly just outside the door frame. A girl, from what he could see. Maybe a pretty one, too. And then, she walked in.

James couldn't be sure, but it felt like his jaw had just come loose and dropped onto his desk.

"Is this Introduction to Computational Methods of Nanobiotechnologies?"

"Yes, it is. You're late!"

The girl looked at her wristwatch. "I'm sorry."

"Please take a seat."

"Where?"

The girl turned to scan the class, which was almost completely full. Her blue eyes sparkled, her red hair shone like the light of a thousand suns. James knew this was the moment. The one seat left in the class, the _one_ empty seat, was right next to him! It was love at first sight, and he knew nothing could stop him. This was _his_ moment. He stood up, giving his hair a quick brush, and struck his best pose, winking seductively at the girl. She smiled, obviously responding to his masculine charm.

"Right here," he said. "You can sit next to me."

The girl took a seat beside him. Drew tried to say something, but Drew was never very good with the ladies; he sputtered awkwardly, standing up and then sitting down, extending a hand halfway in attempt to shake hers, but then drawing back in fear. James shook his head in amusement. One day, his friend would learn. But for now, there was no way Drew could match his ways with the ladies.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.

"James. I'm a grad student." He flashed a set of blindingly white teeth, and the girl swooned at the sight. "What's _your_ name?" he asked as the girl almost missed her seat, captivated by his gaze.

"Anne!"

XX

"_Excuse_ _me_, Possible!"

The story came to an abrupt halt. James turned to Drew, a little irritated at the man cutting off his story. He had been leading his audience aimlessly around the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology campus as they listened to his tale, and he was just reaching one of the good parts before getting cut off. "What is it, Drew?"

"That's _not_ how it went."

Shego and Kim both snickered loudly before each of them noticed they had the same reaction as the other and lapsed into awkward silence, not wanting to look like they both found something amusing. Jim and Tim had been looking a little bored by the tale; James assumed that was probably because he hadn't gotten to any explosions or cybertronic battlesuits yet, but that would come eventually. His wife had an amused expression, probably because she knew, just like he did, that Drew was being ridiculous. Whatever Drew claimed, James was _sure_ his memory was accurate.

"Are you saying I'm lying?" he asked.

"Maybe not _lying_," said Drew, "but definitely putting your own spin on it. You've been making me look bad through this whole story, James! I won't stand for it!"

James rolled his eyes. Wild exaggerations, as usual.

"You know," said his wife, "I don't remember our first meeting happening quite like that, either."

"Honey!"

James was going to protest, but he had to admit, maybe his wife had a point. Whatever Drew was thinking was probably way off – but then, maybe James had been exaggerating a little for the sake of making his ex-friend insecure. He was allowed to have a little bit of fun, wasn't he?

"You see?" said Drew. "Your wife agrees. Not how it happened at all."

"Alright, then how does the story _really_ go? Be my guest, Drew."

James, his family, and Shego all turned to Drew, expecting him to continue the tale. He looked like he was caught off guard - like he hadn't anticipated getting put on the spot. James smirked at the sight. And if Drew thought he remembered things the way they really happened, he had another thing coming. He probably couldn't remember something from five minutes ago without putting a self-serving spin on it.

"I _will_ go ahead!" said Drew, gathering his courage. "Now, once we got to the classroom, this is what _really_ happened..."

XX

Drew borrowed James' textbook for a moment, flipping through the pages to see what kind of nanobiotechnological concepts they would be dealing with in this class. It wasn't like he really needed a textbook, anyway. He had always been a fast learner, picking up concepts and staying ten steps ahead of his classmates no matter what the course work was. James usually needed a little more help, so he always had to have his textbooks close at hand, and was always asking for extra tutoring after class. But Drew didn't mind; not everyone could be blessed with his natural talent.

"Interesting," he said as he tired of the book, flipping it shut again. "Poor choice of cover. I don't know how a random tye-dye image represents nanobiotechnology. Maybe if-"

"QUIET!"

While his friend jumped in terror at the loud voice, it didn't bother Drew. Their teacher came in – a big woman, who introduced herself as Miss Anne Thrope – but Drew had too much on his mind to pay much attention to what she was saying. Bob Chen and Ramesh had been acting strangely since he moved in earlier that morning. A little cold towards him, for one thing, but Drew knew that was probably just because they were intimidated by someone as smart as himself moving into the townhouse with them. They'd get over it.

But it was their talk about joining the Society of Engineers that bothered him. Such a waste of time – were the two of them falling for all that conformity that the system had been pushing on them? Joining clubs, meeting the right people, polishing resumes, eventually wearing a suit and tie and wasting their lives away in some cubicle, stuck at a soulless corporate job where they'd never make a name for themselves? Just the thought of it all sent a chill running down Drew's spine. He'd never be able to deal with that.

Even college was too stifling for him, too concerned with the abstract instead of the practical. Why talk about the theory behind lasers when you could build a laser gun, for instance? Drew had considered dropping out before, but he knew he'd never hear the end of it from his father. And James made it tolerable, too. Maybe James wasn't quite up to his level of talent, but the man shared his opinion on most things. They were both lone wolves, technological terrors who wouldn't be chained down. Drew and James, rebels without a cause.

The classroom had grown strangely silent, and Drew looked up to see what was going on. A girl had just walked into the classroom. James seemed to be smitten; his friend sat dumbly in his seat, drool glistening as it ran from his mouth. The girl took one look at him and laughed. Drew patted his friend on the back, feeling a little sorry for James, who really had no luck with the ladies. Maybe it was time for a lesson in love.

"Hello," said Drew, standing up and pointing to the empty seat beside him. "You can sit next to me."

"Hello there!"

"My name is Drew Lipsky."

"You look like a genius!"

"That I do," said Drew with a chuckle. "I've invented many amazing things. Maybe I'll show you sometime."

"Oh, please do! That's all I'd ever want in a man! I'm Anne, and I'm in looove!"

The girl threw herself into Drew's arms, and the two of them began to dance, the rest of the class hypnotized, jealous and awe-struck by Drew's dance moves. But then he remembered - Anne's blue eyes and red hair were pretty enough, but when it came right down to it, he had a preference for green skin, jet-black hair, and a lot of snark. There was no other girl who would ever stand a chance of competing for his heart, so really, it was a good thing that-

XX

"Too late!"

Shego gave Drakken a slap across the back of his head, cutting his story off abruptly. James and his family could barely restrain their laughter. Drakken gingerly rubbed the spot; fortunately, the mullet had absorbed most of the blow, but Shego still didn't know her own power. "Uncalled for, sweetie," he said. "But that's pretty much how it went!"

"I think the two of you are forgetting something."

James and Drakken both turned to Anne Possible.

"What?" asked Drakken.

"I was there, too."

The two of them gulped.

"And from what I remember, I was _not_ late to class – but both of _you_ were."

Jim and Tim exchanged excited glances with each other, now getting more interested in the story. Drew had to admit he had been exaggerating just a little, but still, the gist of his story was correct – there was no way James had been that smooth with his wife at the time. The man couldn't flirt his way out of a paper bag in college. Still, he hoped he wasn't forgetting any minor details that Anne was about to bust out for the sake of humiliation.

"So what happened, mom?" asked Jim.

Tim nodded eagerly. "Yeah, tell us!"

Their mother cleared her throat and began her version.

XX

_Introduction to Computational Methods of Nanobiotechnologies_. It sounded promising.

Anne was a junior at Upperton University, but she was taking a couple of classes at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology this semester. The two colleges had a credit-exchange program that worked out pretty well for her, and she was interested in this class in particular, which was not offered at Upperton. That university was great for medical school, but Anne wanted to know a bit about the technical side of things – and as far as she was concerned, nanotechnology could have interesting applications in the future of neurobiology.

It was just too bad that her teacher looked and sounded like a female version of the Incredible Hulk.

"In this class," thundered Miss Thrope, "we will be-"

The beginning of Miss Thrope's lecture was cut off as the classroom door burst open with a loud bang. Anne started in her seat, along with the rest of the class, as two boys stumbled into the classroom, almost tripping over each other in their attempt to get inside. The teacher tapped angrily on her wrist watch, which was so tightly strapped to her beefy wrist that Anne half-expected the tapping to make the band snap off completely.

"You're late!" she barked.

"Sorry," said one of the boys. "We got lost!"

"It's his fault," said the other one. "He messed up his scheduling and I was off looking for him."

"Which one of us is the grad student, Drew?" asked the first boy.

"Both of you, take your seats!"

The two of them slumped their shoulders before looking out over the classroom for a couple of empty seats. Anne gave both of them a once-over – they were kind of nerdy looking, but the grad student did have a certain geeky charm. The other one, with black hair instead of brown, adjusted his glasses as he looked for a seat. Something about the way he was acting had a certain nervous, overexcited vibe that rubbed Anne the wrong way.

"Right there," said the teacher. "By the red-haired girl."

"Anne," she said helpfully.

"Whatever."

The two boys approached the empty desks beside her, but both were staring at her in an embarrassingly obvious way. Anne couldn't help blushing; she heard several snickers come up from the rest of the class when the boys, not paying attention to where they were going, ended up getting jammed beside each other in between two rows of desks and almost fell over. The slightly more handsome boy fumbled with his textbooks, nearly losing his grip and sending them flying into Anne's face before he pulled them back at the last minute. He sat down and flashed her a dopey grin.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Jake – Jan – James. James, James Possible. That's me. Hi."

"Um, hello. I'm Anne. And _you_ are?"

She turned to the other boy. Instead of answering, he just stared dumbly at her.

Anne sighed. "This is going to be interesting."

She knew she probably shouldn't have voiced her thoughts out loud, but she did. The boy boys flushed with embarrassment and forced themselves to look back at the teacher, who had restarted her lecture. Why Anne always got stuck with the geeky guys was something she had never figured out. Usually, she was too smart for them to even help her with her homework.

Maybe it was just because it was a technical college. She was already missing Upperton.

XX

James and Drakken exchanged frowns as Anne finished her version of the story.

"That was a little harsh," they both said.

Anne laughed. "Sometimes the truth hurts!"

Kim gave her mom a high five, and although Shego had been attempting to look like she wasn't agreeing with Kim on anything, she definitely looked like she had enjoyed the story too. Jim and Tim pointed at James and Drakken and laughed. James frowned; the story was definitely getting away from him. Even if maybe there was just a small grain of truth in his wife's version of events. But details didn't really matter. And even if his story involved the way he and his wife first met, that wasn't really the point, anyway.

"I can't believe you insulted my looks," said Drew.

"What? When did I do that?"

"You said James looked better."

Anne stuttered for a moment. "I didn't mean to – no, it's just – you look just as good as James."

"Wait," said James, "you don't think I'm the best looking man you've ever met?"

He was just giving his wife a hard time. Anne looked torn for a moment, like she was caught between having to insult one person or another, but then she rolled her eyes. "Oh, both of you grow up."

"So when are you getting to Pinky Joe Curly Tail, already?" asked Kim.

James held out a hand to slow everyone down. "I'm getting to it! Don't you worry."

The began walking again as his listeners fell silent, waiting for him to begin.

James tapped his chin thoughtfully, trying to remember what happened next. Maybe he should have started his story even earlier – he had known Pinky Joe Curly Tail before grad school, after all. He and the rat had been bonding for at least the last year of his undergraduate education, before he got his bachelor's degree, from what he remembered. Maybe even longer. They had met whenever he had taken that silly psychology class to fill a requirement totally unrelated to his chosen field. One of those pointless college rules he and Drew had always hated. He had put it off as long as possible until, eventually, he had been forced to take it – but at least it had introduced him to his rodent friend.

"Okay," he said. "So Drew and I had just finished our first day of classes..."

XX

That fiery hair. Those sparkling blue eyes. James had never seen such a vision of beauty. There was no denying she was totally radical, as Ramesh liked to say sometimes. Although, after introducing himself, he hadn't gotten much of an opportunity to talk to her. Miss Anne Thrope ran her class like a slave labor camp, forcing everyone to be completely quiet and stare straight at the board or at their books while she lectured endlessly. Not his favorite teaching style, and he knew Drew hated it, too. Since they had been going over the syllabus for the rest of the class, there wasn't much interaction at all, so James had no idea whether Anne was intelligent, either. But he had a feeling.

Still, he didn't want to jump into anything too quickly. He was pretty sure he had made a good first impression, relying on his natural charm, but he didn't actually know her yet, and now that grad school had rolled around, it was possible his workload might take up more of his attention. A pretty girl in class was always nice, but it was best to reserve judgment. Drew, of course, would probably be jumping all over himself to-

"Oof!"

James smacked right into someone who had been coming towards him on the cobblestone path. Drew, who had been walking beside him, stepped back and snickered before recognizing who his friend had hit. James' eyes widened, and he felt an unpleasant rumble in his stomach.

"James Possible," said Dean Barker. "And Drew Lipsky."

"Nice to see you again, Andy."

The dean narrowed his eyes at Drew. "It's _Andrew_," he said. "And you can refer to me as Dean Barker."

"Yes, sir!"

"Don't give me any lip, Lipsky."

"How can he avoid it?" asked James. "It's in his name-"

"No jokes, Possible!"

The dean was not a large man, but he was imposing all the same. Something about the graying hair and glasses always made him seem very serious. There was also the fact that he always _was _very serious. James and Drew knew him well, after getting in trouble with him several times while they were both still undergrads. James was pretty sure the man had some kind of military background. Maybe covert ops, seeing as, somehow, he always seemed to pop up without any warning – often right when they were doing something bad.

"Let me tell you something," said the dean, leaning in closer to his two students. Although he was smaller than either of them, something about his tone made James and Drew shrink back a little. "I'll be keeping an eye on _both_ of you this semester. You two are nothing but trouble – and you've had one too many chances to get out of it. You're in grad school, James. It's time to shape up. And you, Drew? You _could_ have been in grad school with James if you hadn't been violating university rules, consistently slacking off in class, and refusing to do your assignments. Oh, yes, I've had talks with your teachers. I know all about your academic performance."

Drew gulped.

"We're shaping up this semester," said James. "We're even joining the Society of Engineers!"

The dean eyed him suspiciously.

"It's true," said Drew. "Bob and Ramesh talked us into it."

"I don't care what clubs you join," said the dean. "I just don't want any more trouble. You'd better be right about shaping up – otherwise, both of your semesters may end a lot faster than you expect."

Dean Barker stalked off down the path as James and Drew breathed sighs of relief. James watched the man as he left; the dean's tone made him shake with indignant anger. Like he had ever gotten into any trouble worth mentioning. Besides the explosion in chem lab during his sophomore year, but he had convinced his fellow classmates to keep a distance of twenty feet, so even that was no big deal. The dean just had it in for them, for some weird reason.

"Back to the townhouse?" asked Drew, looking up at the setting sun.

"I'll join you there," said James. "I want to take a look at something else first. Tell Bob and Ramesh I'll be back in time for dinner."

"You should come with me! Ramesh said he was going to cook dinner! We need to change his mind, otherwise everything is going to stink like curry all night-"

But James was already headed off in the direction of a nearby general science building, Heisenberg Hall, which housed several of MIST's academic department centers, including the psychology and biology departments. He just wanted to pay a quick visit to a friend before he got back to the townhouse after a long day of classes. And he didn't mind Ramesh cooking for them, anyway – he always enjoyed his friend's Indian food. Drew just liked to complain.

The biology department's laboratories were technically off limits to non-faculty – at least, any students who didn't have business there for a class. But there was rarely anyone guarding the place, and James could usually shrug off any suspicion by making up a story. Today was no exception. He slipped into the labs, heading for the section with the animal test subjects, where there were a number of rats to be found. The biology and psychology majors both liked to perform experiments on the animals, and something about it rubbed James the wrong way.

The psych majors, in particular – maybe it was just the way they toyed with people's minds, the way they tried to delve into the secrets of a person's psyche. James disliked them almost as much as show folk. His dislike of show folk had come from an unfortunate childhood incident at the county fair – James shuddered at the memory. His dislike of psych majors was more obscure, but just as real. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any around. He passed a number of cages, ignoring the rats inside, until he reached a large table, on top of which was a maze sealed by a glass covering. The psych students often left their test subjects in the maze, forgetting about them. One in particular seemed to be a favorite among the psych majors – and he was James' friend, too. He looked down through the glass. Sure enough, there was Pinky Joe Curly Tail, nibbling on a piece of cheese.

"Hey, Pinky Joe."

The rat looked up and squeaked in reply.

"What kind of cheese do you have there? Limburger?"

James couldn't tell for sure. And Pinky Joe, of course, couldn't answer him. But there was something about the rat – the way he squeaked, and some of the hand motions he made – something about him struck James as very intelligent. Even more than the other rats. The curly tail made him easily recognizable among his rodent peers, but it was the little guy's personality that had made James notice him from the beginning. Sometimes, it really _did_ seem like Pinky Joe could understand him. But it was probably just that James was fond of his little whiskered friend.

"I met a girl today," he said. "Boy, was she good looking!"

The rat squeaked and tore a chunk out of his cheese.

James knew people would think he was crazy if they caught him standing there, alone and talking to a rat, but he didn't care. He pulled up a chair and sat down, watching Pinky Joe as the little guy raced around the maze for lack of anything better to do. James would add some more cheese through the deposit slot – but he'd leave Pinky Joe in the maze, seeing as trying to sneak him out of the lab would set off alarms. The maze gave him a lot more room than a cage to roam around, anyway.

But someday, James, thought – someday, Pinky Joe would be free.

He felt a surge of righteous anger at Dean Barker's warnings. The man was power-crazed, completely irrational. James and Drew had never done anything except push the limits of science! Barker didn't understand. He was just a suit. They were in college - wasn't pushing the limits the whole point? Although a part of him cried out a warning, telling him he had to shape up for grad school, just like Bob and Ramesh seemed to be doing, James just couldn't hold down his wild side. Pinky Joe needed help. Those psych students would never leave him alone.

Maybe the start of a new semester was the perfect time to come to his rescue.


	3. Rebels Without a Cause

**Rebels Without a Cause**

XX

Miss Anne Thrope smacked a yardstick menacingly against her palm as she stood at the front of the class. Most of the students had already presented, and the results were not impressive. James didn't think they were all that bad - but as he had been discovering over the last week or so, Miss Thrope was a very demanding teacher. About the only thing that had given James any reassurance since grad school began was that this was definitely his hardest class. Hopefully, it was just a fluke. Just a challenging bump on an otherwise trouble-free road to his PhD.

"Drew Lipsky, James Possible! You two are next!"

James gave his friend an encouraging pat on the back as the two of them stepped up to the front of the class. Drew put the transparencies for their assignment on the overhead projector, clearing his throat loudly as he began his presentation. Overhead projectors for a nanotechnology class – James didn't know why they weren't using something more cutting edge for such a cutting edge class. They were in the dawn of the digital age, for the love of Pete!

They hadn't really discussed how to share the presentation duties, but that was mostly because Drew always ended up interrupting all the time anyway. James found it easier to let his friend do most of the showboating on the handful of occasions they had done a group presentation together. The guy liked having the spotlight. As Drew explained their solution to the problem Miss Thrope had given the class a few days ago, the class listened intently.

"And so _that_," finished Drew, "is how the abnormal cells can be neutralized by the nano-bots, rendering the subject free of his debilitating disease."

Miss Thrope clenched the yardstick more tightly, knuckles whitening as she stared at the image up on the projection screen drawn down over the blackboard. Although she wasn't saying anything, James got the impression that they hadn't gotten the right answer. Their teacher took another look at the transparencies before pointing to their two empty seats with the yardstick. Anne was sitting beside his seat – James noticed her smirking. Like she knew their solution was wrong.

_ Well_, he thought bitterly, _let's see what _she_ came up with!_

"Sit," their teacher said.

James returned to his seat with his friend. Drew looked glad that the yardstick hadn't been put to use, although James hadn't seen Miss Thrope hitting anyone with it yet; she seemed to use it as some kind of psychological weapon.

"That was an interesting approach," said Miss Thrope, "but using your configuration for the nano-bots would have led to an unpredictable pattern leading to even more abnormal cells, potentially killing the patient. You see the flaw in your formulas, right here?" She used the yardstick to slap haphazardly at their transparency.

"You're _wrong!_"

Drew leaped dramatically from his seat and pointed an accusing finger at Miss Thrope.

"Excuse me?"

"That is the most efficient way of removing the abnormal cells! By superpowering the nanorobots with my computational tweaks-"

"_Our_ computational tweaks," interrupted James.

"-Yes, yes, our computational tweaks - they attack the cells in half the time!"

"Yes, and they destroy healthy cells while they're doing it. Your formula doesn't work!"

"Well," said James, "I see your point there, Miss Thrope, but there wasn't really any rules about protecting healthy cells in the directions."

Miss Thrope glared at him. Jame coughed nervously, and the rest of the class looked like they shared his unease.

Technically, he knew that he and Drew were right – the paired assignment had asked them to find a formula for controlling the nanobots that would be most efficient in removing a patient's disease, with added details about the fictional disease, of course. It was all theoretical, although Anne insisted it would be happening for real in a couple of decades. James had gotten the impression that causing no harm to the patient was implied in the directions, but Drew had insisted that if it wasn't spelled out, it wasn't part of the assignment.

Apparently, his friend was wrong.

"Obviously," said Miss Thrope, "if you're trying to destroy a patient's disease, you're trying to protect the patient!"

Drew waved his hand dismissively. "You shouldn't punish us for vagueness in directions. You know, if you let me co-teach this class, we could avoid a lot of these problems – as a matter of fact, I've had a few ideas for some assignments myself. I don't know why we're spending time trying to cure a patient's disease. This is Computational Nanobiotechnology, correct?"

"It's just an example scenario," said the teacher.

"Well, why not work on a more exciting scenario? For instance, how would one assemble a horde of airborne nanodroids that take over the motor controls of the human body and turn someone into a powerless slave? I have several-"

"QUIET!"

Miss Thrope smacked the yardstick against her desk, making the class give a little jump out of their seats in unison. Drew's excitement tapered off at the outburst. James couldn't help chuckling quietly; sometimes his friend had the craziest ideas. Airborne nanodroids? Technologically enforced slavery? Drew had been hitting the comics a little hard lately. He knew he probably shouldn't be chuckling, however, seeing as the two of them had worked on the same assignment. Which meant that Drew's outburst and Miss Thrope's obvious irritation had probably just earned the two of them a failing grade.

Although he was surprised that Miss Thrope had objected to them inventing a solution that put the patient's health in jeopardy. She seemed so antisocial that James was hoping she wouldn't even notice that little issue. But maybe the one thing outweighing her general unfriendliness was her distaste for students who tried to be sneaky and take shortcuts in an assignment. Now that James and Drew's presentation had come to an abrupt end, Miss Thrope signaled for Anne to step up to the projector.

"Your turn, Miss McMann."

Anne stepped up to the front and placed her transparencies on the projector.

:Where's your partner?" asked Miss Thrope.

"She was sick all weekend. I had to do the project myself."

Miss Thrope shook her head, just barely preventing her hidden wrath from seething to the surface.

"I actually did something pretty close to what James and Drew had in mind," said Anne. "But I took the health of the patient into consideration, and I figured out how to make a little tweak that would keep the nanorobots working at the same speed while improving their accuracy. See, I found this difference in the cell membrane of the diseased cells compared to the healthy cells, and I keyed the nanorobots to pick up on that when they were choosing repair targets."

Anne pointed to a formula on the transparency, and Miss Thrope looked more closely. James was looking more closely, too. He ground his teeth as he realized the formula was a great idea. Not only that, but he was amazed to see Miss Thrope's perpetual frown change into something else – something, if he wasn't mistaken, that might at first glance be interpreted as a smile. He couldn't remember seeing that from their teacher before, at least not in the week or so they had been taking the class. He noticed Anne giving him a cheeky smirk. James frowned.

"The first sensible solution in the class," said Miss Thrope. "Good job. Maybe I won't fail you."

Anne took her work and returned to her desk, still flashing James the smirk. He frowned and grumbled a little; so she had gotten an assignment that happened a line up perfectly with her interests. Big deal! She had mentioned wanting to go into medical school the other day, and getting an assignment dealing with a fictional disease in a patient was obviously right up her alley. She was just lucky, that was all. But she _did_ seem to be getting along with Miss Thrope better than the other students. James couldn't help feeling insecure. Judging by the way Drew was wringing his hands together and muttering, his friend was probably feeling the same thing.

"Maybe next time," Anne whispered. James tried to ignore it.

"Oh, and before you all leave," said Miss Thrope, "I am obligated by the Science Department to make an announcement. There is a science mixer coming up in a couple of weeks. Anyone studying in a science-related field or otherwise interested in the subject of science can come and mingle with their fellow students and professors while enjoying some free food and music. It's a social event. Which means I will _not_ be there. If any of you find that sort of trash interesting, the details are on the bulletin board out in the hall."

With that, she dismissed the class. After a grueling period of presentations in which most of the class had failed to impress their teacher in any way, everyone was eager to leave. James got up with Drew and gathered everything from his desk, shoving it into his backpack, still annoyed at how Anne had upstaged all of them. It wasn't that he was viewing the assignment as some competition – it was just that he liked to beat all the other students and be number one, that was all. He was a competitive guy. But Anne's cheekiness after getting the right answers was becoming a common theme in his nanobiotechnology class; she definitely had an ego. She could learn to be a little more modest, like he was.

Not the kind of girl he would invite to a science mixer, _that_ was for sure.

XX

Just outside of the main campus, past the tennis courts and down a short gravel drive, was the headquarters of the Society of Engineers. James and his friends stopped at the gravel clearing in front of the house and looked around. A few cars were parked in the clearing, and while they weren't in a forest, enough trees were gathered closely around the building to make it look secluded and tucked away. Despite the cars, something about the silence around them made it seem like nobody was home.

The building looked sort of like a frat house, although there were no letters above the front door that James could see. They had passed a sign near the end of the drive, just before it turned and led them to the house, but the lettering had been illegible - almost like it had been blasted off in some kind of explosion. Still, Bob and Ramesh had led James and Drew here, despite their protests.

"You're _sure_ this is the place?" asked James.

"Most definitely," said Ramesh.

Bob nodded in agreement. "We heard it from a friend of a friend of a friend."

"Who?"

"Well, some people in the dining hall were talking about it, and we overheard them."

James sighed. For people who were otherwise geniuses, his friends seemed to forget basic things like looking in a University Directory to find out where they needed to go. Unless the Society of Engineers was more secretive than James had expected. This place _did_ seem a little mysterious, although, situated just outside the main campus, it wasn't like it was that hard to get to. Hopefully they were at the right place. They stepped up onto the porch. There was a window beside the front door; James glanced into it, but he couldn't see much through the drapes on the other side of the glass. Once again, he got the strange feeling that no one was home.

He rang the doorbell and waited. There was no answer.

"Is it just me," said Drew, "or is that door already open?"

Now that Drew mentioned it, James did notice the door was open a crack. He pushed it open a little more, peeking inside as its noisy creak cut through the quiet air.

"Hello?"

Once again, no answer.

"Is this when they said we should stop by?"

Bob and Ramesh nodded. "Two o'clock sharp," said Bob.

James stepped inside. His friends seemed more hesitant, but they soon joined him. The house's entryway led into a living room on the left and a small kitchen on the right, both of which were empty. Although he did notice a number of soda cans and empty wrappers strewn about a coffee table in the living room facing a hefty-looking television set. He approached a stairway just ahead and looked up to the second floor. "Anybody home?" he said.

The house was silent. He decided to go upstairs.

"Maybe they have changed the time of the meeting," said Ramesh. "We can always come back later."

James ignored them, reaching the second floor.

There was another door hanging ajar, just down the hall. He noticed a sign on the front that said 'meeting room'. Although he couldn't hear anything inside, James pushed it open. The lights were off. The room didn't seem to have any window, either, as it was almost pitch black inside. He stepped inside, fumbling for a light switch, and his friends filed in behind him. It had to be on the wall nearby, but he couldn't seem to-

The door slammed shut.

"What's going on?" screamed Drew, his voice freakishly high.

"Calm down, Drew. Just looking for the light switch."

James felt his friends bumping into him in the darkness. Suddenly, just ahead of them, the blackness of the room was pierced by a single light, shining from the ceiling, even though James hadn't actually found a switch anywhere. He blinked at the light bulb above him, confused. Most of the room was still dark, but the light from the ceiling was enough to reveal a desk about ten feet away. Three hooded figures sat side by side, their faces shrouded in darkness.

"James Possible," said one of them.

"Bob Chen," said another.

"Ramesh Chandra – Chan - Ramesh," said the third, unable to pronounce Ramesh's full name. Since there were only three figures at the desk to read the names, he then turned to Drew. "Drew Theodore P. Lipsky," he said.

Drew grumbled. "You didn't have to use my full name."

"_Silence!_"

The three figures stood up, speaking in unison.

"You have come to the lair of the Society of Engineers," they said. "Foolish children, prepare to-"

James found the light switch on the wall and flipped it. Several brighter ceiling lights came on, bathing the room in harsh fluorescent light. The hooded figures looked up and groaned; one of them tilted his head back too much, and the hood fell off, revealing a chubby-faced young man with glasses. The other two groaned at the sight. "Dude," one said, "you revealed your identity!"

Bob laughed at the sight. "Hey, Chester, is that you? From Advanced Space Telemetry last year?"

"Yes, it's me," grumbled Chester.

The two others removed their hoods as well, apparently giving up their theatrics.

"What is this?" asked James. "Hazing?"

Chester looked indignant. "I think _not_," he said. "Do we look like a fraternity to you?"

"We just thought it would be cool to do something creepy, like in Dungeons & Dragons," said another.

"That is a nice idea," said Ramesh. "You were fairly convincing – I am certain that Drew almost soiled himself."

"Did not!"

"We'd like to join your society," said James, tired of the shenanigans. "At least Bob and Ramesh want to, and Drew and I are going along with it. Where do we sign up?"

"It's not that simple," one of the boys said.

"That's right," said Chester, agreeing with his fellow club member. "You have to give us a demonstration of your worthiness before we let you join the club – er, society, I mean."

"A demonstration?" asked James.

"Something public. Something that demonstrates your science abilities. Something that will end up being a spectacle and raise the society's profile on campus, and show our fellow students how cool science can be."

"We're at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology," said James. "I'm pretty sure they all know how cool science can be already."

Chester ignored him, a little irked at James' obvious observation.

Bob adjusted his glasses. "What kind of spectacle?" he asked.

"Whatever you want. Something with rockets, maybe some kind of robot. It's up to you."

Although Bob and Ramesh both seemed confused at the initiation requirement, James was surprised to find himself becoming just a little bit interested in this so-called Society of Engineers. He knew why his two friends were confused – Bob and Ramesh liked following the directions, and this initiation requirement was a little too vague for them. But it was right up his alley, and Drew's, too. He had been expecting something boring, a group filled with rules and regulations and all that nonsense, but the free-form entry test wasn't like that at all.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all. And he was already getting an idea.

XX

"You're not supposed to be in here!"

James looked up from the maze-table in which Pinky Joe was imprisoned. It was a psychology student who had come into the room without his noticing. No matter; he knew just what to do. "Yes, I am," he said. "I'm working on a project with my little friend Pinky Joe here."

"Who are you? I don't remember seeing you here before. Do you have a clearance tag?"

James hadn't been expecting _that_ one. "Um, I'm a TA for professor Knowles," he said, making something up on the spot – he was pretty sure Knowles was a psychology professor at the college. "Only regular students like _you_ need clearance tags. Now leave me alone before I report you."

The student frowned and scurried off. James smirked; his ruse had worked. Sometimes he was just too clever for his own good. It wasn't that often that he got interrupted while he was stopping by to visit Pinky Joe, but every once in a while, one of those nosy psych majors tried to get in the way. He turned back to his rodent friend, about to feed him another piece of cheese, when he heard more footsteps approaching from behind. James frowned. This one, apparently, was more persistent than most psych students. He was about to whirl around and tell the student off again, but almost tripped backwards into the table in surprise at the sight of Anne approaching.

"James?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, nothing – what are _you_ doing here?"

"I was looking for some supplies I needed for a bio lab I'm taking." Anne looked over James' shoulder into the maze. "What's that?" she said, pointing to the maze.

"That?" said James. "That is Pinky Joe."

"The rat? He has a name?"

"Well, that's my name for him. Pinky Joe Curly Tail."

"Aww," said Anne. "How cute. You come here to visit your friend?"

"Yes. Are you implying there's something wrong with that?"

Anne looked like she was about to burst into laughter, but instead, she kept herself down to just a smile. "No," she said. "Nothing wrong with that. Why Pinky Joe and not any of the other rats?" She motioned to a row of cages nearby, which lined part of one wall of the expansive laboratory.

"Pinky Joe is smarter than the other rats," said James. "I can't explain it, but he is."

"Hmm. Are you _sure_ you're not just crazy?"

He ignored the jab, instead putting his little piece of cheese through the feeding slot. Pinky Joe grabbed it and looked up at his two human visitors. Although he knew Anne would make fun of him and call him crazy again, James could swear he saw the rat nodding at Anne. Just like it was introducing itself. "The psych majors run tests on him," said James. "And the bio majors, too, but the psych majors are the worst."

"Why is that?"

"It's a long story," said James. "Let's just say there was an _incident_."

"Sounds serious."

James nodded; it _was_ serious. Those psych majors were monsters!

"Still," said Anne, "he is a lab rat. He was born and raised to be tested on. Can you really blame them?"

James' jaw dropped with shock. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Of course! Where do they get the right?"

"Think about all the advances in medical testing we get from animal experimentation."

"Think of all the animals harmed in the name of making cosmetics for superficial consumers!"

The two of them rolled their eyes at each other.

"Look," said Anne, "I'm not saying they should be cruel to Pinky Joe, but I doubt MIST is doing cosmetic testing. And it looks like he's alright in that maze, anyway."

"Doing alright? He's a prisoner! Can't you see the desperation in his eyes?"

James pointed down at the rat, who was gnawing at a corner of the maze where a piece of his cheese had rolled under a crack. He _did_ look desperate at that moment, although it was more of a 'desperate for cheese' kind of thing. But his basic point was the same. Anne shrugged nonchalantly. "It sounds like you're just too attached to him to think about it objectively," she said.

"I bet you voted for Reagan, didn't you."

Anne groaned. "I bet you voted for Carter!"

"I was too young to vote for Carter!"

"But you _wanted_ to?"

James gave a little huff and crossed his arms. Anne was insufferable. First the constant one-upmanship in their nanobiotechnology class (or was it one-upwomanship?) and then her refusal to understand why those psych majors were pure evil for testing on poor Pinky Joe, a defenseless rodent. If she wasn't so ridiculously good looking, and if it wasn't for the fact that he kept running into her just by chance, he'd probably have nothing to do with her. Before he could tell her to leave him alone and give him some quality time with Pinky Joe, the two of them turned at the sound of still more footsteps approaching.

"Possible!"

It was Dean Barker. And that psych student who had questioned him earlier was tagging along, too. Slinking behind the dean like a weasel. James got the feeling he was about to get in trouble. "Yes, sir?"

"I heard you were impersonating a TA."

"He's making it up!" said James, pointing at the psych student.

"I did not!"

The psych student drew back behind the dean and gave an almost imperceptible was of his hand, fingers arched, like he was making a clawing motion at James for accusing him of lying.

"That's enough," said the dean. "James, you need to leave. This laboratory is off limits to anyone who doesn't have a clearance tag for research. Also, it's nice to see you, Anne."

"Hello, Dean Barker," said Anne. "Can't James stay and hang out with his rat buddy?"

"I'm afraid not. This way, Possible."

James grumbled and stalked out of the lab. It was nice that Anne had made a half-hearted attempt to let him stay with Pinky Joe – he hadn't really expected that – but he was too annoyed with the dean, and that snitch of a psych student. He had never had any problems with so-called clearance tags before. It must be some kind of new regulation. The psych student disappeared into another room, but Dean Barker escorted him out of the building and narrowed his eyes as the two of them stood on the cobblestone path outside.

"I've heard about you paying visits to those rats before," said the dean. "I hope you're not planning any shenanigans."

"What kind of shenanigans would that be, sir?"

"_Mouse_ shenanigans, Possible."

"They're lab rats, sir. Not mice. And I'm way too busy learning and studying hard."

"That's good. Keep it that way."

The dean stomped off, leaving James alone in front of the science building. Although Dean Barker hadn't explicitly spelled it out, he knew that would be the last time he visited Pinky Joe without getting into serious trouble. And yet, somehow, that realization made James want to cause trouble more than ever before.

XX

Behind the townhouse, partially obscured by a couple of large pine trees, was the tool shed. At least that was what James liked to call it. Although it looked like a tool shed, it was a lot larger than any sheds James had ever seen – maybe bordering on a small barn, as tall as it was wide. Their townhouse was angled in such a way that it had a large back yard, and there were no houses behind them, so there was a lot of room – they had lucked out when they found it up for rent. A lot of room for a big shed was necessary, of course:

You needed a pretty big tool shed to conceal a cybertronic battlesuit that was over twelve feet tall.

"I'm so glad I moved in with you guys," said Drew. "This is going to be fun!"

James nodded as he hammered away at a piece of metal which would soon be attached to the battlesuit's hip. The suit was only about half finished; he and Drew had been working on it since they were undergrads, with Drew stopping by the townhouse from time to time when he was still living with his parents in suburban Middleton. But now that Drew was here living at the townhouse, they'd be able to pick their pace. Not only that, but James wanted to get it done quickly – his anticipation always grew sharper as a project's completion loomed on the horizon.

"That's not the right spot," said Drew as James got ready to place the plating on the knee joint. "Here, give me that, Possible. You couldn't build a robot if your life depended on it."

James rolled his eyes and gave his friend the plating. Drew tried to place the plating on the robot, but it was obvious he had no idea what he was doing. James waited patiently until his friend gave up with a sigh, then took the plating back and placed it in the correct spot. It slid nicely into its spacing.

"I would have gotten that," said Drew. "I've just been in a funk today."

"You don't say. Why's that?"

"Miss Thrope and her ridiculous inability to recognize genius when it's shoved in her face."

"What, you mean with the assignment this morning?"

Drew nodded, grinding his teeth at the memory.

"It _was_ pretty unfair," James agreed. "But you have to learn to figure out what teachers want. And you can't go challenging them after they tell you that's not what they want – you're just going to make them angry."

"How can you say that? The woman is clearly wrong, and yet somehow it's _more_ wrong to point that out?"

"I'm not saying it's _wrong_, it's just that – well, sometimes you have to pick your battles, Drew. Besides, you've already been in a lot of trouble lately. You can't afford to keep failing classes because you don't want to play by the rules, can you? You have to keep a low profile to make sure you get yourself into grad school with me and Bob and Ramesh."

"A low profile," scoffed Drew. "I'll show them low profile! Once this battlesuit gets finished, they'll be forced to give me A's in all my classes, just out of sheer awe and terror. Then my enemies will be the ones forced to keep low profiles, let me tell you."

James laughed at his friend's grandiose claim. Drew was always saying things like that – more and more often, actually, the more trouble he got into when it came to college – but he never took it very seriously. His friend liked to exaggerate, and had a way of making everything overly dramatic. It was just how Drew talked.

Of course, while James shared his friend's excitement over the battlesuit, he couldn't help feeling a little worried about what might happen if they _did_ pull some kind of stunt with it. He was better off than Drew when it came to being on thin ice with the university, but he wasn't out of the woods yet - Dean Barker still hated him, and he had been in his share of trouble over his undergraduate career, generally with Drew as his partner in crime. But James had never really thought he'd get in _serious_ trouble. He was a genius, after all. MIST wanted him around, so he could invent great things in the future and give them big donations as an alumnus.

People like him could always get out of trouble. It was one of the perks of being so smart.

"So, are you planning on going to that science mixer?" asked Drew.

"I was thinking about it. Just because Ramesh is definitely going, and I'm sure Bob will be going with him, so we might as well go together. It could be fun. Why, are you going?"

"Of course not! What would I do there?"

"Talk to girls?"

Drew grew quiet, as if he hadn't actually thought of the idea before.

"I'd have to _find_ a girl first," he said, fiddling with his glasses as he considered the idea. "It wouldn't be hard, with my personality and charm, if I actually wanted to go. I'd ask that Anne McMann girl in our nanobiotechnology class, but she's so lippy! And besides, I wouldn't want to steal her from you."

"What's _that_ mean?"

"It's obvious you like her," cackled Drew.

James sputtered, momentarily caught off-guard by the accusation.

"Wh-what? You're crazy, Drew. She's annoying. There's no _way_ I'd ask her to the mixer!"

Drew shrugged indifferently as the two of them went back to poking and prodding the cybertronic battlesuit with their screwdrivers and wrenches. They worked silently under the single light bulb hanging from the top of the shed, but James felt his mind buzzing with activity.

Why would his friend think he had any kind of interest in Anne? Maybe it was just another example of Drew's lack of self-awareness when it came to the ladies. They were both rebellious types, that was true, but James was always sort of the devil-may-care leader of their duo. Technically, that hadn't gotten him any luck with the ladies yet, but it was only a matter of time. If he had a more serious interest in the mixer, and he wasn't so busy with more practical things, he'd get a date in no time at all instead of just coming with his friends. After all, once he shared the story of how he invented a plasma-powered Phase Modulator at age sixteen, what woman could resist?

"Hey, you two!"

Bob appeared at the shed's door, with Ramesh right behind him.

"We are making dinner," said Ramesh. "Are the two of you going to come inside or what?"

James wiped his brow. "Give us another half hour, would you?"

Bob and Ramesh stepped inside the shed and looked over the battlesuit. James was happy to see his two friends looking impressed. _As they should be_, he thought.

"It is looking good," said Ramesh.

"Thanks. It should be finished soon."

"I hope you two are not planning to use it for anything silly."

"Of course not. We'll only be using it for very, very important things."

"Like getting into your precious Society of Engineers," laughed Drew.

Bob frowned. "I don't think that's what they had in mind when they talked about a spectacle, guys."

"Maybe not," said James, "but it's going to be pretty spectacular, alright!"

"We were thinking about making some kind of a rocket," said Ramesh. "Perhaps we could launch it in the big field outside of Cheadle Hall and hand out cookies to the bystanders."

"Cookies?" said Drew. "How pedestrian!"

"No, you do not understand - we hand out cookies _to_ the pedestrians."

Drew grunted dismissively. "Wait 'till you see what _we've_ got planned."

Bob and Ramesh looked skeptically at each other before returning to the townhouse's back patio. They opened the glass sliding door, and James caught a whiff of something tasty cooking inside; but for now, his appetite was outweighed by the enthusiasm over the progress he and Drew were making on the cybertronic battlesuit. Against his better judgment, James knew he wouldn't be able to resist; they'd have to do something awesome. It was a _battlesuit_, after all. You didn't just leave something like that sitting around in a shed in the back yard!

Neither he nor Drew had discussed anything in detail about what exactly they were going to do with the battlesuit once they finished it. Maybe because it was obvious. One or both of them was going to pilot the thing, and probably stomp around on campus and scare the stuffing out of their fellow students. Drew sounded like he had some more specific ideas from the way he was talking to Bob and Ramesh, and James had to admit he had some of his own, too. Demonstrating the battlesuit in public might get them into the Society of Engineers, but they were only doing that to tag along with Bob and Ramesh, anyway.

He had something extra in mind. Something a little more personal.


	4. Something Borrowed

**Something Borrowed**

XX

James was very loyal to his alma mater. He was proud to be an alumnus, and proud to have two sons who would also be attending. He was willing to defend it as a wonderful choice in higher education to anyone willing to listen. But there _was_ one thing about the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology that James Possible just couldn't defend. And that was the food.

"It's a vegetable, I think."

James raised an eyebrow at Drew. He was skeptical – it looked more like a meat to him. He had never seen a vegetable with a color like that, not to mention that it had been shaped into a mass somewhere between a solid and a liquid. From what his daughter had told him, the food was similar at Middleton High School. He was taking a break from his storytelling, and he and his family – along with Drew and Shego – had dropped by one of the dining halls for lunch. He was at the buffet table with Drew, still loading his tray with food. He hadn't actually tried any yet, but based on appearances, his memories of bad dining hall food in college were about to be confirmed.

"Only one way to find out what it is," he said.

"What's that? Run it under a microscope and perform some molecular testing?"

"Um, not quite. We have to eat it."

Drew frowned. Apparently he had been looking forward to some molecular testing.

The two of them returned to their table in the middle of the dining hall, where his family and Shego were waiting. James was surprised that Drew had ventured a guess as to what the food was – the two of them hadn't been making much small talk ever since he began his tale of college adventure. Shego had roped her husband unwillingly into tagging along as they meandered through the campus, and Drew mostly just interjected when he thought James was remembering something wrong. So it was strange to actually chat with him after all these years, even if it _was_ just about lunch food.

"Did you guys see that gray stuff?"

Tim pointed at his own tray as James sat down between his daughter and wife, across from his two sons.

"Yeah," said Jim. "I think mine moved."

As James began to eat his food, he noticed that Shego was sitting adjacent from his daughter. Somehow, the sight of the two of them sitting next to each other at the table amused him. While they were headed to the dining hall, and while they were standing in the buffet line with the other families attending orientation, he had even heard Shego and his Kimmie-cub talking about their babies and impending motherhood. Things like pre-natal vitamins, cribs, how long babies were supposed to be breastfed, whether or not said babies would be engaged in international crime fighting or international crime itself when they grew up – the kinds of things all mothers talked about, really.

"So what's his name going to be?" asked Kim.

Shego looked down at her swelling belly. "Madison. Doctor D has an uncle named Madison, and one of my brothers is named Madison, so we thought it worked out okay."

Kim nodded. James was almost expecting some kind of jab about the name compared to the one she and Ron had chosen for their daughter, Annabelle – but she was silent. They did seem fairly competitive about their pregnancies, though. James couldn't help wondering if Shego had only gotten pregnant when she heard about his daughter expecting, seeing as Kim was a month farther along.

"Man, this food is horrible," said Jim.

His wife set down her fork, looking a little green around the gills. "I have to agree."

"Get used to it, boys," chuckled James. "You'll be eating this all the time in college."

"Can't you eat off-campus?"

"Not if you want to have any spending money."

Jim and Tim frowned at the thought.

"Come on, Mr. Dr. P," said Ron. "Tell us more about Pinky Joe! He sounds a lot like Rufus."

Although he hadn't really thought about it before, James realized his son-in-law was right. "You know, I suppose he is. They're both pretty smart rodents. Good eye there, Ronald."

"I bet Rufus would have liked this story, too," said Ron. "But nooo, he had to stay at the house and watch the _Bikini Watch_ marathon!"

"_Bikini Watch? _ Probably having more fun than I am," muttered Drew, before Shego slapped him on the arm.

James held a bite of mystery meat – or vegetable, he couldn't remember – up to his mouth, but hesitated before taking a bite. He just needed some time to steel himself for it. For now, maybe it was time to get back into his story. He hadn't started his lunch, and to be honest, it didn't look like he was going to be eating much considering he couldn't even identity the main course. Back in college, food was food – you ate whatever was around as long as it wasn't moving around or stinking the place up. But he was an adult now, spoiled by his wife's brain loaf. He didn't have the stomach for this kind of thing anymore.

"Alright," he said. "Let's see here, where was I?"

"You were talking about our cybertronic battlesuit," said Drew.

James nodded, remembering where he left off.

Drew actually looked excited to be listening to the story again, at least just for a moment before he thought better of showing any interest and returned his attention to his food. "The battlesuit," said James. "Yes, I had some plans brewing for that thing, let me tell you. Drakken and I were making good progress, but there was something missing. I needed something to make those controls more responsive, and as great an inventor as I was even then, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. So we were taking a little break from working on it to watch one of our favorite shows..."

XX

The intruding alien roared in anger as a burst of plasma sent it flying against the hull of the ship. Captain Constellation himself was surrounded by several of its reptilian brothers and sisters, but he would find a way out. Just like he did in every episode. James had to admit that this episode wasn't one of the best ones – those reptile alien suits were a just plain shoddy, for instance – but when it came to _Captain Constellation_, even a bad episode was better than most other shows on television. At least he wasn't fighting skunk supervillains, for instance – although James kind of liked that ferret sidekick. But the reptile aliens were giving him an idea. He pulled a notepad from his pocket and jotted down a few notes with a pencil he had tucked behind his ear.

"What are you doing?" asked Drew, who was sitting beside him on the couch.

"Just taking a few notes."

"For what?"

James looked hesitantly at Drew, but he decided he'd let his friend in on it. "I'm writing some _Captain Constellation_ fan fiction," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper even though no one was near them. "The ones in the newsletter have been so bad lately, I was thinking I could try one out."

"Fan fiction? That's for losers," laughed Drew.

The two of them turned back to the television screen. But after a moment, his friend leaned in again.

"Do you need any help?"

"Help with what?" came a voice from behind them.

A shadow fell over James' notebook. Someone must have come in from outside; James looked up and did a double take when he saw Anne standing behind the couch, reading his notebook. He stuffed it back into his pocket before inevitable humiliation could occur, getting up from the couch and almost losing his balance in the process. "Anne!" he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Bob and Ramesh invited me for the launch."

"Ah, I see. Well, um – welcome to the apartment."

"I can't believe you two didn't notice me. I've been here for about thirty minutes."

"We were busy watching _Captain Constellation_," said Drew.

"And writing about it, too, I noticed."

James laughed nervously. "So, what brings you here to the living room?"

"Your friends are about to start their launch outside. You should come out."

James and Drew followed their nanobiotechnology classmate out onto the back patio of their little townhouse. A few guests had been trickling in over the last hour or two, but there were more outside than James had expected; he and Drew must have been totally absorbed in their show. Bob and Ramesh usually watched _Captain Constellation_ with them, but they had been busy setting up a rocket launch as an entry test for the Society of Engineers. Several of the society's members were already outside – James remembered Chester, the pudgy one with the glasses, and gave the boy a nod as he stood and watched Bob and Ramesh setting up a makeshift launch pad in the middle of the back yard.

Their invention was a lot simpler than the one James and Drew were working on, so they had finished faster. Soon, their launch would determine whether they joined the Society of Engineers or not. They had been planning to launch it in the field outside Cheadle Hall, but launching it in their back yard and inviting people to view the spectacle, they decided, was easier – and it meant they could have a little BBQ afterwards, too. James couldn't object to that. Anything to avoid dining hall food.

"Bob said you guys were trying to join the society, too," said Anne.

"Only because they dragged us into it," said Drew. "But some silly engineering club is beneath people like James and I, mark my words."

For some reason, even though James pretty much agreed with his friend, he couldn't help feeling like Drew was being very awkward. Of course, his friend didn't have his charm with the ladies. "We thought we'd try joining to keep them company," he said. "And you never know – maybe they have some interesting activities."

"And what are you guys making for _your_ entry demonstration?"

"Oh, you'll see," said Drew with a cackle.

"It'll be better than a rocket," said James. "I can tell you that right now."

Anne smiled faintly as she looked out at the rocket that Bob and Ramesh were just setting out on the launch pad. "I don't know, James. That's a pretty big rocket. Can you measure up?"

James got the distinct impression that something had just gone over his head. Before he could ask for clarification, however, his two friends finished setting up their launch pad and fitting their rocket into place. Soon, something was _definitely_ about to go over his head. Ramesh fiddled with the fuel injection valve for a moment before the two of them stepped back quickly, retreating to the slate patio and joining their guests as they all watched. James thought a countdown was appropriate, but his friends seemed too absorbed in whether or not their little demonstration would fail to do one themselves. Instead, he did one in his head.

_Three..._

_ Two..._

_ One..._

Liftoff. A billowing cloud of white smoke spread out from beneath the rocket as it sailed up into the air, flashes of orange guttering out from beneath it as the propellant ignited, pushing it skyward. James had to admit he was impressed; it was quite a beautiful rocket. His friends had obviously worked hard. It was no battlesuit, though. The rocket traveled higher, higher, higher, until finally-

It exploded.

The crowd beneath jumped in surprise as the rocket combusted into a cloud of fire and smoke. Some of them kept gaping upwards for a moment, but most of Bob and Ramesh's guests were smart enough to realize it was probably a bad idea to stand with their mouths open just after a airborne explosion right over their heads. They darted back to the patio door, some of them going inside and some crowding underneath a little overhang as various pieces of debris and smoldering metal fell back to the ground, peppering their back lawn. James winced as he saw a particularly large piece crash into the top of the oversized tool shed which hid their cybertronic battlesuit. Fortunately, it didn't look like it had broken through the roof or done any serious damage.

Bob and Ramesh stared in shock at the sky. They hadn't even bothered to take cover. James felt bad for them; although it had been an impressive rocket, it looked like their attempt to get into the Society of Engineers could be in jeopardy. Chester and the other members came forward as the debris stopped falling down, looking up at the sky one more time before turning to each other and speaking in whispered tones. Soon, they turned to Bob and Ramesh.

"That was _awesome!_" said Chester. "You're in!"

"_Yes!_"

Bob and Ramesh shouted in triumph and gave each other a high five. They gathered closer to the society members as they all talked about the cool explosion. James was happy for his two friends, but at the same time, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy. Judging by Drew's expression, his friend was feeling an even bigger twinge. Sure, it was a nice rocket, but – well, just wait until they saw what he and Drew had up their sleeves! James was about to start picking up a couple pieces of twisted rocket refuse when he noticed Anne giving him a look.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Looks like you guys have some competition."

"It's not a competition. We're all friends, after all. I hope all of us get into the society. And believe me, we have some pretty exciting things planned."

"Anything to do with what's in that shack?"

James wondered if she had seen what was inside; but considering they had it padlocked, probably not.

"It certainly is," said Drew. "The whole college will be talking about it."

There was a grill standing out on the patio, ready for some barbecuing once the demonstration was finished. Bob went inside to get some meat while Ramesh turned it on and then came over to join his friends. "Did you guys see that?"

James nodded. "Sure did."

"How about you, Anne? Did you see the rocket explosion? It was quite the sight, was it not?"

"It was impressive."

"By the way, are you looking for a date to the science mixer next week?"

James flinched, expecting an awkward rejection in front of all of them. Ramesh _thought_ he was great with the ladies, always dressing a little snappier than his friends and planning on picking up dates every weekend, but none of it ever came to anything. And just as James had expected, he had been going on and on about the science mixer, about how they all needed dates – James had been only mildly interested at first, but he had to admit Ramesh's excitement was a little contagious. So this rejection was going to be painful.

"Oh, I'm flattered," said Anne, "but I'm not going. Those things are kind of lame, don't you think? And I'm only taking a few classes here when I'm not at Upperton, anyway. I'm not really a full time student."

James breathed a sigh of relief. Not as humiliating as he had been expecting.

"I do not think that matters," said Ramesh. "The flier did not have any rules about length of time as a MIST student. And you could still crash the party if it did!"

"I'm probably just going to stay home and watch television."

James hoped against hope that she was talking about _Captain Constellation_ in particular. But he wondered why he was suddenly hoping that. What did it matter what she watched? She was kind of irritating, after all - he hadn't even invited her to this little rocket demonstration and BBQ. And she was goading him about what he and Drew were going to do for their demonstration. No, he definitely didn't care what she watched in her spare time.

"Well, that is unfortunate," said Ramesh. "How am I going to get a date for the mixer? And if I cannot get one, how would the rest of _you_ get any dates?"

James and Drew made a point of ignoring their friend's unintentional jab.

"I thought you were such a lady's man," said Bob, who had caught the end of their conversation after emerging from the house with a few cold cuts on a plate. "It should take you five minutes."

"Yes," said Ramesh, "but we are so busy with our classes. That is five minutes we do not have."

"Don't worry," said Drew. "I'll be taking care of everything."

Ramesh stared incredulously at Drew before laughing. "Excuse me?"

"I'll take care of dates for all of us!"

"What, by asking the many single ladies surrounding you at all times?"

Bob scratched his head. "I've never seen Drew with any ladies..."

"Exactly!"

Drew narrowed his eyes and shrugged off the insult. "You'll see," he said. "You'll get your dates, despite your attitudes, because that's just what kind of friend I am!"

The conversation fell into a lull, and Bob and Ramesh went off in the direction of the grill, noticing several of their guests milling around and casting hungry glances at the plate of meat that Bob was holding. James, Drew, and Anne were left standing in the yard. Anne cast another look off in the direction of the shack.

"Going to show me what's inside?" she asked.

At first, James wanted to shrug off her interest in what he and Drew were doing for their demonstration to the Society of Engineers, but then, another thought struck him. She obviously didn't recognize his talent. He'd prove her wrong. If she saw what the two of them had up their sleeve, she wouldn't be so impressed by Bob and Ramesh's lackluster rocket demonstration. Explosions weren't that impressive. And James had seen a major flaw in their design just at a glance, too. Bob and Ramesh had made a basic mistake – bigger did _not_ mean better.

"Come with me," he said to Drew and Anne. They followed him as he approached the shack.

"James," hissed Drew, "Our project is top secret. We shouldn't be showing anyone."

"Who cares, Drew?"

James unlocked the padlock on the door and slipped inside, making sure no one else at the BBQ was paying attention – he _did_ want it to be a surprise for the Society of Engineers members, after all. They would be more impressed if they didn't see it coming. He swept his hand out in front of him in a theatrical fashion, drawing attention to the hulking, mostly-finished cybertronic battlesuit, which was a little cramped in the shack. It stood silently, like an animal in slumber. Anne, James was pleased to note, did look pretty impressed.

"Is it finished?" she asked.

"Not quite. I was hoping to do something a little better when it comes to the controls. It's got a couple of levers you can use to move it around, but it's not very easy. I wish I had something more, I don't know – more intuitive."

Anne pursed her lips. "I have an idea for that."

"This is fairly advanced robotics," said Drew, patting her condescendingly on the back. "But thanks for the offer."

She ignored his comment. "Have you heard about the Neural Pickup?"

"No," said James. "What's that?"

"It's an invention – apparently it picks up neural signals related to movement and translates them into simpler electrical signals that you can use to manipulate something. I think they were trying to build robot hands connected to handicapped people – it was in a medical journal I get in the mail sometimes. A scientist at the Middleton Space Center invented it. They ran an article in _Cool Science Quarterly_, too – don't you guys get that?"

James shook his head. The only mail he got was the _Captain Constellation_ fan journal.

"I think there was even a cutout of the article on the board outside our class."

"So, what's the use of a Neural Pickup to us if we don't have one?" asked Drew.

"You're students. Go to the Space Center and ask them if you can borrow it for a project. They might like it being used for a demonstration. Or maybe you could just talk to the inventor about the technology and get some ideas for yourself."

James stroked his chin thoughtfully. "So you're thinking we could use the technology to build some kind of system that lets the battlesuit pick up on our arm and leg movement?"

"Yep! Something like that."

James liked the idea. He had been stumped on how to make the control system less clunky, but it sounded like this Neutral Pickup, whatever it was, might come in handy. Although he wasn't sure if anyone working at the Middleton Space Center would be interested in talking to a couple of college kids, much less giving away what was probably highly valuable prototype technology. He had visited the place a couple of times as an undergrad, and Bob and Ramesh had made noises about wanting to work there someday. It wasn't up James' alley, though. Too bureaucratic, too restrictive. He wanted to be more of a trailblazer.

"By the way," said Anne, "I've been doing a lot of work over at that science building, Heisenberg Hall. You know, the one with your little pet rat?"

"Pinky Joe Curly Tail," said James.

"That's right. Anyway, I think you're right about that rat. He's very intelligent. It's a little creepy, actually."

"It's true," said James. "But he's not creepy, Anne. He's a good buddy of mine."

"It's too bad he's stuck running that maze for those psych students, then."

James nodded enthusiastically. Anne was finally seeing his side of things.

"You should rescue him," she said. "I think it's the manly thing to do – I know _I'd_ be impressed."

As Anne winked, eyelashes fluttering, a sultry look on her face, smoldering hotter than the debris from Bob and Ramesh's failed rocket, James couldn't help feeling the call to action. He didn't _want_ to cause any trouble, but Mr. Barker had forced him into his position. He had no choice. And now Anne was goading him on. How could he ignore a comment like that, coming from such a gorgeous girl? He had to act. He had to-

XX

"Wait a minute," said Jim.

"Yeah," said Tim. "Did this really happen? All of a sudden mom's goading you on?"

James frowned. Maybe he _had_ gotten a little carried away.

"I don't remember that either, James," said his wife. "Are you suggesting it was _my_ fault you got into so much trouble with Pinky Joe?"

"No, honey, of course not. I just meant that maybe you suggested-"

"I don't remember suggesting anything about rescuing Pinky Joe," said Anne.

"She's right," said Drew. "Don't try to pass off the blame for what's about to happen. It was all _your_ fault!"

"Excuse me, _Drew!_ It was all your fault, not mine!"

Kim and Shego exchanged looks, rolling their eyes, while Jim and Tim traded excited grins, anticipating a fight coming on at any moment. Before James could object any further to his ex-friend's lies, however, Anne held up a hand to calm everyone down. "Tell us what happened next," she said. "So I told you about the Neutral Pickup."

James nodded and cleared his throat. Maybe he had been shifting gears a little bit there, although he could have sworn Anne was goading him on a least a little. As he had been telling the story, he was beginning to realize he had been quite a rabble-rouser in his college days. He was even starting to feel a little embarrassed at the way things had gone awry with Pinky Joe. But times were different back then. Now, with his two boys, he didn't want them repeating his mistakes. Especially the mistake he was about to make in his story with the Neural Pickup, even though it was all due to Drew's bad influence.

Still, even if most of his bad decisions in college either weren't all that bad or were someone else's fault, he had been wondering if he was giving his kids some bad ideas. He'd have to make it clear he didn't want them imitating him when _they_ started college. They needed to be focused on academics, one hundred percent. No falling for the wiles of beautiful young red-headed college coeds, or getting into hot water with the dean because of their friends, rodent and future supervillain alike.

"Let's see here," he began. "The Neural Pickup..."

XX

"It doesn't work!"

James frowned. That was bad news.

"What do you mean it doesn't work?" asked Drew.

"It's just a prototype. It does pick up _some_ neural activity, but it's not reliable enough to be usable."

Doctor Bosworth turned back to his computer station, ignoring James and Drew. The two of them had been lucky enough to get into the Middleton Space Center despite visiting hours being over, thanks to James thinking on his feet and making up a fib about having an appointment with the inventor of the Neural Pickup, whose name they had discovered after prodding Anne for fifteen minutes at the townhouse until she remembered it from the article she had read. Now that they were actually talking to Bosworth, however, James got the impression that their good luck was running out.

"Maybe I could take a look at it," he said. "Sometimes you just need an extra pair of eyes."

"Hah!"

Bosworth's laugh was short, sharp, and dismissive. "A couple of college students from MIST, thinking they can improve on my invention? I don't _think_ so. But thanks for the offer."

"You're very welcome!" said Drew.

His friend didn't seem to catch Bosworth's sarcasm, but James did – the man seemed haughty. More evidence that the Middleton Space Center was not a good fit for him as a future career, if _this_ was the kind of person they had working there. Okay, so maybe he was a lowly grad student, but he already had a few inventions under his belt. He wasn't just some nobody. This Bosworth character was too dismissive. Still, James didn't want to give up quite yet.

"Even if it doesn't work," he said, "could we borrow it to use as part of a science demonstration at the college? We'll be done with it in a few weeks, and then we'll return it."

"I don't think so," said Bosworth. "The Space Center has strict rules about technology leaving the premises, as well as how it can be implemented. And I have no idea what you two are going to use it for, anyway – how do I know you won't be doing something illegal?"

"You don't have to worry about that," laughed Drew. "All we're planning to do is incorporate your Neural Pickup technology into the control system for a cybertronic battlesuit we're building. We're going to march around the campus and terrify a few of our classmates as a prank, that's all!"

Doctor Bosworth narrowed his eyes at Drew, who wilted under the man's harsh glare. James groaned inwardly; his friend wasn't great at telling white lies. At the very least, he could have phrased their plans better than _that_. As Bosworth turned back to his computer again and pointedly ignored them, it was clear that they had failed in their mission. The battlesuit was at least semi-usable with the crude controls James had added, but he was really hoping for something a little more cutting-edge. Their visit to the Space Center was turning out to be quite a disappointment – and they had left the barbecue at the townhouse just as Bob was cooking up some ribs, too!

"Um, Mr. Bosworth?"

The scientist ignored Drew's question.

"Mr. Bosworth," he pressed, "if you saw this battlesuit, I think you'd be singing a different tune. I'm telling you, one stomp from this thing could utterly crush a-"

"Drew," whispered James, "not helping!"

"Are you two still here?"

Bosworth looked back from his computer station and waved a hand dismissively before turning back to whatever he was working on. From the looks of it, the scientist had already lost all interest in them. James sighed and grabbed Drew by the arm, dragging him off before his friend could continue annoying the man. So much for getting a cool upgrade for their battlesuit. They left the laboratory and walked down the hallway until they passed through the reception area. James nodded to the friendly receptionist who had let them through to talk to Bosworth before they left the building.

It was getting dark outside – they had classes tomorrow, and Bob and Ramesh were probably wondering where they had run off to. It had been worth a try, but it was time to go back to the townhouse. Out in the parking lot, however, Drew stopped and turned back to look at the front doors.

"What is it, Drew?"

"Do you really want to give up that easily?"

"What else can we do?"

Drew flashed him a malevolent grin. Apparently, he had an idea.

By now, James had learned that ideas from Drew Lipsky could mean trouble. Sure enough, Drew took his arm and led him abruptly to the left, making their way past a few parked cars until the reached some hedges lining the edge of the parking lot. Wondering where his friend was taking him, James followed Drew as they skirted around the hedges and came to the side of the Space Center, following the building around the back. James tried to stop Drew, but his friend shook off his hand and kept walking.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Drew glanced back and pulled something from his pocket. James didn't want to believe what he saw, but there was no way to mistake it for anything else: it was a gun. Had his friend gone completely crazy?  
"Um, Drew, I don't think not being able to use the Neural Pickup is _that_ big a deal."

"What?"

Drew looked down at the gun and realized what James was talking about. "Oh, no," he laughed. "It's a grappling gun – see?" He shot a grappling hook from the front of the gun, which James hadn't noticed at first, and sent it sailing into the grass with a soft thunk. It narrowly missed James' feet; his friend definitely needed some target practice.

"Where did you get that from, anyway?"

"I made it. It's modeled off the one they used in _Fearless Ferret_, episode 7. Didn't you see that?"

"Yes, I did," said James, a little defensively. From what he remembered, not a very good episode, either. He didn't really like the show, even though he never missed an episode. "What did you make it for?"

"Infiltration."

James wondered when exactly his friend had decided he would ever need to engage in any infiltration.

"I noticed some air conditioning ducts over Bosworth's laboratory," said Drew. "And the man was so oblivious, he could barely focus on our conversation. I think if we used this grappling gun to climb up on the roof of the Space Center, we might be able to find an entrance into the laboratory and borrow his Neural Pickup!"

James was skeptical. "Borrow? Don't you mean _steal_, Drew?"

"Of course not. We'd bring it back sooner or later."

"I don't think this is a good idea."

But his objection fell on deaf ears. Before he even knew what was going on, his friend grasped him by the waist and shot the grappling hook up and over the roof of the Space Center. The two of them went zipping up – Drew was about to miss his handhold when James grabbed reflexively onto the edge of the roof, pulling the two of them up as Drew's feet scrabbled for purchase on the wall. They fell onto the roof in a heap, gasping for breath.

"Bad idea, Drew!"

"I'm going to steal it either way, James. Live a little!"

Drew ran along the roof, crouched down like some kind of ninja even though there was nobody else in sight. James followed along, hoping to stop him, but it was obvious Drew had his mind set on stealing. There was nothing he could do to stop him. Not only that, but he knew if he left Drew to his own devices, his friend would be caught in no time by someone down in the Space Center. And probably expelled, once Dean Barker found out about it.

James frowned as he followed his friend along the roof. He'd need to keep an eye on Drew to make sure he didn't get in trouble. As the two of them leaned over a grating and Drew pried open the screws with the point of his grappling gun, James steeled himself for what could end up being a very long night.

XX

"Whoa, wait a minute!"

James stopped his tale as his two sons gaped at him.

"So you're saying you, like, _stole_ something?"

Jim and Tim both looked excited by their interpretation of the story. They were definitely misunderstanding, though. James cleared his throat and thought of how best to put it. "I wouldn't say _stole_," he said. "We were just borrowing it. We were going to give it back – and besides, Drew dragged me into it! I didn't really like the idea, but once Drew has his mind set on something, it's very difficult to stop him."

"Gotta argue with you on that one, dad," said Kim with a grin.

"I resent that!"

James laughed at his daughter's jab and Drew's reaction.

"So wait," said Kim, "is that where you got the idea of the grappling gun?"

It took a second for James to remember – he _had_ been the one who had given his daughter the idea for a grappling gun, years ago. And now that he thought about it, he had gotten the idea from Drew. Who, in turn, had gotten the idea from a TV show.

"Back to what's important," snapped Drew. "You were twisting around what really happened, James. You were perfectly happy to go along with me! I definitely do not remember any objections to sneaking back into the Space Center and stealing that Neural Pickup from Bosworth."

"You practically forced me into it!"

Jim and Tim exchanged high fives. "Dad was a criminal!" they said in unison.

Now they were _definitely_ getting the wrong idea. James laughed nervously. "No, no," he said. "I didn't get into any trouble, boys. Look, I don't want you to get the wrong lesson from any of this."

"Even when Pinky Joe went on a rampage?" asked Kim.

"What? No, we're not at that part of the sto – okay, yes, I got in just a little trouble then, but-"

"Wait," said Tim. "So you mean, like, that it's okay to steal?"

"Exactly – wait, no! No, that's not what I'm saying."

"So it's like a 'do as I say, not as I did' kind of thing?" asked Jim.

Tim nodded in agreement. "He's telling us this story as a warning of what happens when you become a criminal."

"Boys, I wasn't a criminal!"

They were getting closer to what he was trying to impart with his tale, but still, all the questions were getting James confused. He looked to his wife and daughter for support, but both of them were looking off in different directions, obviously trying not to break out laughing. He grumbled; clearly, this story was not going in the direction he had planned. Maybe his boys _did_ have just a smidgen of a point, though. He hadn't really thought about it too much over the years, but now that he was actually reminiscing over his college days, James was noticing he had definitely walked on the wild side more than he realized. Still, it all ended pretty well. Sort of. For everyone but Drew, anyway.

"I gotta say, Doctor D," said Shego, "I'm surprised you were stealing stuff even in college. I mean, you sound like you were a total nerd, but I guess you got into the supervillain thing pretty early, huh?"

"Baby," said Drew, "I was always bad."

James and his family nearly retched at the sight of Drew and Shego rubbing noses together.

"He really wasn't very villainous," said Anne. "Remember, I was there."

Shego sniggered at Anne's comment. Drew frowned. "I was still learning, Anne. It takes practice!"

From the looks of it, all of them had either finished their lunches or decided there was no way they could eat the indescribable grayish mass that they had gooped onto their trays from the buffet line. It looked like everyone was ready to go – not that they were really going anywhere in particular, but James decided it would be nicer to continue the story outside in the sunlight and fresh air. He got up from the table. His family, Drew, and Shego joined him. By this time, Drew seemed to be enthusiastic about following his story, if only to provide objections and corrections.

"So what happened next?" asked Tim.

"Well, boys, we got the Neural Pickup, and the cybertronic battlesuit was almost ready to go. We didn't have a date for when we were going to take it for a test walk, but Drew and I both knew the time was coming soon. And I knew Pinky Joe was just itching to break out of that lab, too! So I had a couple of things on my agenda. The problem was, the Neural Pickup technology was a little complicated. Rocket scientists aren't exactly brain experts, you know. But I knew someone who was, so I gave her a call and asked her to help out."

Jim and Tim gasped, looking at their mother. "Whoa, mom! So you were like aiding and abetting a criminal!"

"Excuse me, boys?"

This time, it was James' turn to give his wife an amused smirk. So much for her taking the moral high ground! Anne noticed his look and gave him a glare, however, which wiped the smirk quickly off his face.

"Um, boys," he said, "your mother didn't know any of the details of how we got it. But anyway, as I was saying, she came over to help me figure out how to get that technology into the cybertronic battlesuit. Before we knew it, we were ready to go! All we needed was the right opportunity..."


	5. Mixing It Up

**Mixing It Up**

XX

The night of the science mixer had arrived.

And the last week had been very busy, so James was looking forward to a break. Not only had classes been tough – Miss Anne Thrope seemed to take pleasure in seeing her students come in half-exhausted from an all-nighter of the homework she had assigned during the previous – but he had also been busy with certain extracurricular activities. Namely, the cybertronic battlesuit.

He and Drew had managed to 'borrow' the Neural Pickup without getting caught, and in addition to some other finishing touches to the battlesuit, James had spent most of his free time working the pickup's technology into the existing controls. Anne had even been kind enough to help him out, dropping by a few times to take a look at the Neural Pickup and figure out how to reverse engineer it to work in the battlesuit's cockpit. For an undergrad, she sure knew a lot about the human brain, even if she was kind of pretentious about it. James supposed he shouldn't have been surprised – even for an introductory class he was taking a little late as a grad student, nanobiotechnology was not a simple concept.

Unfortunately, working on the battlesuit had been even harder because James had been doing most of the work himself outside of Anne's contributions to the control system. Drew had been busy up in his room, hammering and welding away at something up there. James wasn't sure what it was – his friend had been very tight-lipped, always slipping through the door and slamming it shut before James could wedge himself in to see what his friend was working on. It was amusing, since Drew had promised he would get all of them dates for the science mixer a few days ago. James knew it had been empty talk. Another grandiose claim. There was no way Drew had found the time to find dates over the last week or so – and what girls did the man even know, anyway?

After checking his appearance in the computer monitor on the desk where he was sitting, James looked at his watch. As far as he knew, the science mixer had already started. And yet here he was with Bob and Ramesh, still sitting around in a computer room of the science building, waiting for their friend to arrive.

"Where's Drew?" he asked. "He was supposed to be here a half hour ago."

Bob shook his fist emphatically. "I knew he couldn't come through with dates for us!"

"What do you expect?" asked Ramesh. "He cannot even come through with a date for himself."

They were both right; James knew it had been silly to trust Drew with getting dates for any of them. Of course, Bob and Ramesh had been the most gung ho about going to the science mixer, insisting things had to change for them in grad school. James was looking forward to it, too - he had expected Drew to be solidly against it, and yet even _he_ had been getting more and more excited over the last week, totally changing his tune from what he had said at first.

But it was all for nothing. As usual, they were dateless. Maybe, just maybe, he could have asked a particular redhead in his nanobiotechnology class to – but no. She said she wasn't going, anyway. And while he had underestimated her a little when he first met her, he definitely wasn't interested in her _that_ way. No, sir.

"This was folly," said Bob.

James had to agree. "It was a nice dream, though."

The three of them jerked their heads up as the computer room door opened.

"The dream is real!"

Drew stood triumphantly in the doorway.

"Drew!" said Bob. "You found girls!"

"Found – hah! Gentlemen, tonight we make history! I give you: the future!"

Drew marched through the room, gesticulating with his abnormally small hands. Instead of his usual jean jacket and scientific formula shirt, Drew was wearing a suit, just like the rest of them. Bob and Ramesh usually wore suits, though.

James was shocked; had his friend actually found some ladies to accompany them to the mixer? They watched in shock, expecting a quartet of beautiful coeds to come marching through the door. Instead, a group of awkward-looking robots running on treads came rolling into the room, clawed hands flailing about. They appeared to have a red dress stretched over their barrel-like bodies, along with blonde wigs and crude lipstick. The overall effect was kind of horrifying, actually.

_My... name... is... Bebe_, one of them said in monotone voice that sounded vaguely female.

Drew extended a hand. "Bebe – would you like to dance?"

_Affirmative. Bebe... will... dance._

The robot rolled forward and extended its arms. James winced as he saw what was about to happen; sure enough, after a series of incredibly dangerous-looking dance moves, the robot pulled Drew into its embrace and nearly crushed him in a vice-like grip. Drew's glasses were knocked askew, and James thought he could hear an audible crunching sound as his friend was pressed against the robot's metal bosom. "As gentle as a summer shower, no?" asked Drew, short on breath.

"No!"

The three of them said it at the same time, and couldn't help laughing at the sight. Drew grumbled angrily, still caught in his robot date's intractable grip. "Uugh... alright. Go on, laugh away, but one day my genius will be recognized! Bebe will be perfect! And I will be the one... laughing..."

The robot tightened its grip, announcing its name one more time before its head spontaneously disconnected from its neck, dangling from a spring. James was unable to stop laughing at the sight, but still, he came over and helped pry Drew loose from its grip while watching the other robots warily. From the looks of it, his friend had not designed dates, but potential killing machines. He wiped a tear from his eye as he helped Drew out of the robot's tangled arms.

"Is that what you were spending the last week working on, Drew?"

"Yes," said Drew reluctantly, expecting more abuse. "But they're nearly perfect! I must have overlooked a minor glitch."

Bob and Ramesh leaned against each other, unable to stop laughing. "Drew," said Ramesh, finally calming down a little, "this is the science mixer, not amateur wrestling night! We do not want to be crushed!"

"Ha ha, very funny. I didn't see any of you doing any work to get us dates."

"I wanted to come alone," said Ramesh. "So that I am free for all the ladies at the mixer."

James gaped at his friend. "That's not true! You were waiting for a date just like the rest of us."

Ramesh shook his head emphatically. "That was just to make you three feel less insecure."

James looked at his watch again; they were definitely late, although it was an all-night affair. But to be honest, he had more on his mind than just dates. On the way to the science mixer, he had noticed something else. Ramesh had been the one who knew the time and location from the posting on the blackboard, and it was only when they arrived that James realized it was in Heisenberg Hall. The very same science department building that held the laboratory in which his friend Pinky Joe was imprisoned.

Their cybertronic battlesuit was waiting in the big shed behind their townhouse, ready for deployment. Thanks to Anne's help with the Neural Pickup, it would hopefully be easier to control. After the way that scientist at the Middleton Space Center, Bosworth, had dismissed them, James couldn't help gloating over what he had accomplished. The man would soon be eating his words, once they returned his invention with James' upgrades. Bosworth would be begging them to explain how they had pulled it off.

"Can we go to the mixer now?" asked Bob.

"Why don't you and Ramesh go," said James. "I'll stay here and help Drew clean up his robots."

"That is fine with me," said Ramesh. "Come on, Bob! The science department ladies are waiting."

His two friends headed out of the computer room as Drew sat down in a chair, still getting his breath after almost being crushed by his robot dance partner. James chuckled heartily and poked at the robot; it was definitely a hasty job, but he knew it wasn't an example of Drew's best work. Drew had been in a hurry to get them finished, even if it meant that he hadn't helped James much on finishing up the battlesuit.

"Go on," said Drew. "Tell me what a laugh my Bebes are."

"Actually, I was going to suggest we go get a _real_ robot."

Although it was kind of an insult, Drew didn't notice it. His morose expression changed into sly curiosity as he leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "Are you talking about what I _think_ you're talking about?"

"That's right," said James. "We've been waiting for the right opportunity – what better time to give a public demonstration of our battlesuit than tonight? Everyone in the science department will be here at the mixer, including most everybody in the Society of Engineers! If we crash the party, we'll blow Bob and Ramesh's rocket demonstration out of the water!"

"Out of the sky, you mean," said Drew.

"Oh, they already did that themselves."

The two of them cackled together as Drew leaped out of his seat. Already, his enthusiasm was reinvigorated. James motioned for him to follow; first, they would have to leave the mixer and head back to their townhouse, but that was only a short walk away from the campus. Then, they would have to return with the battlesuit. James would be piloting it, of course, while Drew would have to walk alongside him the old-fashioned away, on his feet. James had been the one to finish it, after all, so that was only fair. He wasn't sure quite what they'd do once they got back to the science building. Maybe try to fit the thing through one of the doors.

Details didn't matter. Either way, their fellow students would be impressed. He had no doubt.

Not only that, but it was high time to make a daring rescue attempt. They could get accepted into the Society of Engineers with Bob and Ramesh as a result of their battlesuit demonstration, rescue Pinky Joe Curly Tail, and impress the girls at the science mixer, all at the same time! James had even made a few modifications to the battlesuit's controls, with Anne's help. Theoretically, a very small pilot could control it, although James himself would also be in the cockpit to take over if things went bad. Tonight, just as long as those annoying psych students weren't around, he and his little rodent friend would definitely be putting the battlesuit to the test.

XX

"Yeah, dude, pull that one up!"

James laughed with glee as he used the battlesuit's claw hand to uproot a small tree. It had taken a minute or two to get it into position, but he was definitely getting the hang of the new Neural Pickup-enhanced controls. He moved his hand slightly as he clutched the left arm grip, which brought the robot's arm swinging back and then forward, flinging the tree out across the open quad behind the science building. The group of students which had collected around him cheered at the sight, although one of them narrowly avoided being hit by the tree.

"Oh, sorry about that!" shouted James from the cockpit.

"It's all good, dude!"

Drew stood beside him, looking sour. James didn't know why his friend was putting on a long face – he'd get to pilot the battlesuit soon enough. James had called shotgun right when they got to the townhouse, which meant he got to pilot the thing back to the science building. As they had left their neighborhood and come back to the campus, they had collected a crowd of their fellow students, cheering and trailing along as the battlesuit lurched unpredictably on its path. James had been hoping for a little more secrecy - but now that he thought about it, there was no way they could sneak over to the science department building without drawing _some_ attention. The battlesuit was at least twice the height of a normal human, after all.

"Why are we even here, James?"

James looked at his friend through the cockpit's glass window. "You mean behind the science building?"

"Yes. The science mixer is in the front – there's no way we'll get inside from here, if we can get inside at all."

"Well, I was hoping to do something else, first."

James realized he hadn't actually told his friend about his plan. Not the part he had in mind, anyway. They had arrived around the back of the science building, on the opposite side of the entrance that led to the science mixer. Evening had begun to fall, and various soft yellow lamp lights around the campus paths were already on. A few feet away from them, the light from the science laboratory flooded brightly out of a window. Drew looked at the science building in confusion, peering through the window until he realized just where they were "Wait a minute," he said. "You're going to rescue Pinky Joe?"

"That's right!"

Drew frowned. He didn't look happy to have a change in plans. Something seemed to crossed his mind, however, which lit up his face like one of the lamp lights around the campus. "Then you'll have to get out of the battlesuit," he said. "I'll pilot the thing while you break into the lab and steal that rat!"

"I don't think so. You need to keep a lookout just in case we get caught."

Drew stared blankly at his friend for a moment before gesturing around the little quad behind the building where they were standing with the cybertronic battlesuit. James got the point. Between the dozen or so students they had picked up in their short walk from the townhouse to the science building, there was obviously no point in keeping a lookout. "Um, hey guys," he told their audience, "you're going to keep this quiet, right?"

"Keep what quiet?" said one of them.

"Um, nothing. We're just going to drop inside that lab for a minute and pick something up, that's all."

"Hey!" another guy shouted, looking inebriated. "You two should rescue those lab animals in there!"

A few more people cheered at the suggestion. "Yeah, the rats! Rescue the rats!"

James smiled. Clearly, they were on the same page as he was. He knew he should be more cautious, thinking about the consequences – and he knew Bob and Ramesh would be frowning on the whole thing if they were here at the moment – and yet something about being in the battlesuit gave James a rush of power. He felt like he could get away with anything. He had the battlesuit on his side, he had his fellow students on his side – and even if they got caught, he always got out of any serious trouble in the end. College was all about living it up, wasn't it? Maybe most of his fellow students lived it up through promiscuity and excessive partying, but for James – well, for Drew too, living it up was all about creating cybertronic battlesuits and pulling campus pranks. And right now, he wanted Pinky Joe Curly Tail to live it up _with_ him.

"Okay!" he shouted. "I'm going to rescue my friend Pinky Joe!"

Although none of their spectators had any idea who James was referring to, they cheered at the announcement.

"Rescue the rats!" yelled someone.

"Yeah, stick it to those chumps in the Psychology Department!"

A girl near the edge of the crowd looked offended. "Hey, I'm in the psych department!"

Several of the spectators booed at her announcement. She crossed her arms, wearing a surly expression.

Now, James thought, was the time for action. He was kind of reluctant to get out of the battlesuit, since he knew Drew wouldn't want to give it up once he took the controls, but he had to do it if he wanted to get into the science building from the back. There were too many people around the front, partying at the science mixer – and this window connected right to the laboratory, anyway. He opened it up; fortunately, it wasn't locked. He vaulted over the window and fell in a heap inside the laboratory, getting up and flashing a smile to all the spectators outside. Several of them gave him the thumbs up.

"Okay, Pinky Joe," he said, sneaking through the room towards the cages. "Don't worry, I'm coming!"

The laboratory was empty, although James was extremely annoyed to see a poster with his face near one of the doorways, below which 'Banned From Lab' was printed in big block letters. Apparently, Dean Barker had made a special note of trying to keep him out of the laboratory. Denying him his visits to Pinky Joe. Tonight, James would show him. Barker, the psych students, and even the bio students – he'd show them all!

"There you are, Pinky Joe!"

His little friend's cage did not have the name _Pinky Joe Curly Tail _written on the identification plaque below it, of course, since that was just James' nickname – instead, there was a reference to test subject PJ37-GJ. He couldn't remember, but he must have made up the name 'Pinky Joe' from those first two letters, whatever they actually stood for - if anything. The cage had a simplistic lock, but James had it open in no time. Pinky Joe scrambled up his hand and onto his shoulder, looking very pleased to be free, squeaking a few times in greeting.

"I know what you mean, Pinky Joe. But you don't have to worry anymore. No more tests!" James thought about what he had planned. "Well, except one. But you'll like this one!"

He was about to head back to the window when a thunderous crash echoed through the laboratory. James whirled around and stared in shock as window he had come through – along with the entire wall around it – caved into the laboratory in a crumbling mass of brick and plaster. A cloud of dust and debris went sailing into the room as the hulking metal mass of the cybertronic battlesuit came stomping into the lab, almost tall enough to scrape against the ceiling. Inside, James could see his friend looking very confused, and outside, he could hear laughter and a few startled screams coming from the students who had gathered to watch them.

"Whoops!" said Drew from up in the cockpit.

Suddenly, he was starting to think they might be in trouble.

"Possible! You're in big trouble!"

Although James was already standing still, he would have stopped dead in his tracks if he had been moving. Just as the cybertronic battlesuit came to a stop in the middle of the laboratory, an inner door burst open as Dean Barker stormed into the room with a couple of campus security guards flanking him on either side. The dean stared in horror at the gaping hole in the wall, almost tripping over a few stray bricks that had gone sailing into the room. He looked at James, eyes smoldering with something between fury and anticipation. James got the feeling the dean had been waiting to bust him on something serious for a while.

"Um, I can explain," said Drew as he powered down the battlesuit and got out of the cockpit, warily approaching the dean. "We updated the controls recently, and it's not like we really test drove this thing much, so I was still getting used to it, and I guess I must have triggered too much leg movement when I got into the cockpit and it just went crashing right through-"

"Save it for the cops, Lipsky."

James tried to protest, but no words came out. The _cops?_ Talk about an overreaction. Just because his friend had accidentally destroyed some property. What was the big deal? The two campus security guards came forward, and for just a moment, James thought about dashing past them and making his way back out of the hole in the wall. But by this time, a bunch of the students who had been watching James pilot the battlesuit were all crowded in the room's brand new wall entrance, watching the proceedings excitedly.

"Free Pinky Joe!" one of them yelled.

Another one pumped his fist in the air. "Attica! Attica!"

The others looked at him, confused, as the two security guards led James and Drew towards the door. "Let's hold on a moment and think about this," said James. "It's just a wall – Drew and I can probably repair it in no time. When you think about it, we're just giving the architecture students an opportunity!"

"You're not getting out of this one," said the dean. "You kids over there, clear out!"

James noticed that his little friend had gone missing. Pinky Joe had been perched on his shoulder a moment ago, but now he wasn't. Maybe he had been scared off by all the commotion. That, or he had seen his best opportunity to escape. It was a good thing, too – if Dean Barker had seen the rat, the man would have stuffed Pinky Joe right back into his cage.

The two security guards took James and Drew by the arms. They didn't even have guns or handcuffs – if they weren't representatives of the man, holding him and his friend down, James would almost feel sorry for them. A couple of guys forced to obey the dean's every whim, with no real power. Just as the guards were about to lead James and Drew through the laboratory door, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was the cybertronic battlesuit; he could _swear_ he had just seen it lurching forward.

"Hold on!" he said.

Dean Barker looked suspiciously at him.

"What is it?"

This time, it was impossible to ignore.

The battlesuit gave another lurch, and then one of its legs took a step forward. James let out a whoop of excitement – it took him a minute to figure it out, but he realized Pinky Joe must be inside, controlling the thing. His test was working! He and Anne had used the Neural Pickup sensors to install an extra set of tiny, mouse-sized controls inside the cockpit of the battlesuit. James had even added a cheese scent to the controls to draw the mouse in. He had been hoping his suspicions were correct about Pinky Joe – the little guy seemed smart, much smarter than any other rodents he had seen. And his friend was proving him right.

"He's moving it!" shouted James. "He's controlling the battlesuit!"

Drew, the dean, the two security guards, and the group of spectators gathered around the hole in the building's side all gaped in amazement as the battlesuit stomped aimlessly around the room for a few moments, crushing lab tables, knocking over shelving and filing cabinets, and generally wreaking havoc. James knew it was getting him in even more trouble, but he didn't care. This was a momentous occasion. This was science!

"Who's moving it?" asked the dean. "I don't see anybody in the cockpit!"

"It's Pinky Joe Curly Tail!"

"Who's that?"

One of the spectators pointed an accusing finger at the dean. "That's the dude you fascists were keeping imprisoned in here! Those two guys with the cool robot broke him out. Stick it to the man, dudes!"

"Not quite," said James, "he's not a dude. He's a lab rat I rescued from his cage."

Dean Barker waved his hand angrily. "A rat? Don't be ridiculous!"

Their conversation was cut off by another loud crash as the battlesuit went stumbling into the wall, right next to the hole it had created on its way _into_ the lab. The students scattered from the first hole, some running into the lab and some running back outside the building, shielding their heads from debris as the battlesuit tore through the wall once again. The security guards released their grip. James rushed forward to the broken remains of the wall as he watched the battlesuit stomping out over the cobblestone path that ran parallel to the back of the science building. It was veering wildly, cutting through some hedges, then cutting back. Maybe Pinky Joe wasn't that great at controlling the thing, even if he _was_ controlling it. Then again, he was doing about as well as Drew had done.

James left the building and watched his cybertronic creation lumbering over the grass, tacking a rough path alongside the science building, although it veered back and forth repeatedly. It smashed into a lamp light, knocking it over in a shower of electricity. By this time, a number of students from around the campus were starting to congregate, watching the thing and wondering what was going on.

"Godzilla!" someone screamed.

James turned back just as Drew joined him. He knew what they had to do. Well, not exactly. But they had to do something and stop that battlesuit before it started doing real damage. James was about to ask his friend if he had any ideas when a strange sound burst through the air – almost like a sound effect from _Captain Constellation_. He looked back at the battlesuit and jumped back in shock as a red-orange laser beam went flying over his head, punching yet another hole in the science building behind them.

"Sweet Sally!" he yelled. "What was that?"

Dean Barker and his two security henchmen had just rushed out of the science lab, staring at the battlesuit. The thing seemed to be firing laser beams haphazardly from both of its clawed hands – it had turned around, at least, and wasn't firing in their direction anymore. The students who had been watching the spectacle began to scream in fright, many of them diving for cover or running away to nearby buildings.

"Can one of you tell me what in blazes that was?" asked Dean Barker.

James had no idea. He looked suspiciously to his friend. Not surprisingly, Drew shrugged sheepishly.

"Drew, did you make some modifications without me knowing about it?"

"I may have added some working plasma blasters," he admitted.

James groaned. Drew and his plasma blasters.

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black!" cried Drew. "I had no idea you modified the thing so it could be piloted by your pet rat. And now look what it's gotten us into!"

"This is your fault, Drew! Letting a lab rat pilot a cybertronic battlesuit is a legitimate scientific experiment, thank you very much! I have no idea why it needs plasma blasters – what are you, some kind of supervillain?"

Drew sputtered with rage.

"Look, we need to bury the hatchet, Drew. We have to stop this thing from-"

Before he could even finish his sentence or set out in the direction of the battlesuit, James felt a beefy hand on his shoulder. Dean Barker stood menacingly over him, beckoning for the two security guards to come over and grab them again. James gulped. Normally Dean Barker came off as being all bark and no bite, but James was beginning to wonder how he was going to get out of this one.

"You two aren't going anywhere," said Barker. "We're coming to my office, and Billy and Gus will be keeping an eye on you to make sure you don't cause any more trouble while I call the police."

Billy and Gus grabbed them by the arms and as Barker led them all off in the direction of the administrative building, where his office was located. They had to pick up the pace, however, when a couple of laser beams cut through the air nearby, close enough for James to feel their white-hot heat singing his hair. A direct hit from one of those couldn't be any fun. He heard more screams rending the air as the battlesuit cut a meandering path towards the center of campus, firing laser beams intermittently as it kept glancing left and right as fast as the rat-sized controls would allow.

In the evening moonlight, Drew looked white as a sheet as he walked hurriedly along with the security guards close by, trying to keep up with the dean's fast pace. James wondered if his friend's deathly pallor was because they were both in big trouble, or if it was because Ken Lipsky was a police officer. If Barker was calling the police, Drew would have to be dealing with his father soon – and James knew _that_ was never much fun for his friend. He felt bad for him.

But then again, Drew had gotten them into this mess. A working plasma blaster? What was he thinking?

The two of them walked along, led by the security guards, who in return were led by Dean Barker. They had been going at a near-run as the battlesuit's lasers whizzed through the air – they were putting some distance from it, but Pinky Joe was definitely starting to wreak havoc over the campus. Just as they were about to go through a door in the side of the administrative building, one of the battlesuit's plasma beams sliced through the air and pierced a window beside the door, blowing it out in a shatter of glass and flame.

"Argh!" yelled Barker. "That's my office!"

The dean looked through the window long enough to see that the phone had been vaporized, along with half of his desk. James wilted at the look of pure wrath he got when Barker turned around. "Alright," he said. "I need to go find another phone – meanwhile, Billy, Gus, keep these two-"

Barker trailed off. James and Drew looked around, noticing that the two security guards were gone. Apparently, they had run off after having one too many lasers zipping past them. James wasn't surprised; campus security was only there to get all nosy when you were sneaking into a lab after hours to work on your experimental RF-16 compound, never appreciating the scientific advancement you were making. It was just like them to run when things got tough.

"Barker," he said. "Drew and I have to go. We need to stop that thing!"

"That's Dean Barker! And just how are you two going to do that?"

The dean looked at him, waiting for an answer, along with Drew. James dusted off the suit he was going to wear to the science mixer and straightened out his tie, narrowing his eyes with resolve. There was only one way to do it.

"With science!"

He grabbed Drew by the arm and pulled him along, running away before the dean could stop them. Now that he thought about it, James wasn't sure exactly what he meant by stopping the battlesuit with science, but it seemed appropriate. Besides, there was no room for skepticism in science. They'd stop that battlesuit, no question. They'd have to stop it somehow, before the whole campus was in flames. It was up ahead, although it had just passed behind a building, out of sight but for the occasional orange arc of plasma bursting up into the sky.

But they weren't headed for Pinky Joe and the cybertronic battlesuit. Not yet, anyway. For this, James knew they'd need Bob and Ramesh's help. The only way they were going to stop this rampage was by working together.


	6. Oh No, Pinky Joe!

**Oh No, Pinky Joe!**

XX

Things didn't look good when they got to the science building.

The debris scattered over the ground was one example; James could see the remains of some party cups, a singed segment of a sign that said something about the science mixer, and the twisted, half-fused remains of what he could only assume had once been a punch bowl. Even worse than all that, however, was probably the fact that half the science building itself was destroyed.

Not only had they done all the damage in the back, where Pinky Joe's laboratory had been, but the front- where the science mixer had been held – was basically shaved off. It looked like Pinky Joe and his battlesuit had made another sweep through the area while James and Drew were headed off to Dean Barker's office. He wondered if his little friend was trying to find him after getting confused. He hoped Pinky Joe was okay.

And his friends, too. Couldn't forget about them!

"James! Drew!"

He didn't have long to worry about his friends. The sound of Bob and Ramesh's voices came from the inside the ballroom where the science mixer had been held, which was now almost completely exposed, lacking much of an outer wall. James picked his way over the rubble, hoping there wasn't going to be any structural collapse, and found Bob and Ramesh helping a couple of dust-covered partygoers outside. "Glad to see you two are alright!" he said.

"Yes indeed, said Ramesh. "It was very fortunate that absolutely no one was harmed when half the science building seemed to collapse around us! It was almost as if we were in some kind of television show."

James noticed two other people standing nearby: Anne McMann, and Miss Anne Thrope, their nanobiotechnology teacher. He hadn't really expected to see either of them. "What are you two doing here?" he asked.

"I'm obligated by the Science Department to attend this event," said Miss Thrope with a frown.

James had no idea why, but for some reason Anne grew a little nervous, shifting her eyes left and right. "I, um – I just thought I'd stop by the party and see what was going on."

"Possible, Lipsky" said Miss Thrope, "are you two responsible for this?"

"Technically speaking," said James. "But don't worry! We're going to stop Pinky Joe, no doubt about it! We just needed Bob and Ramesh to join us."

"What do you have planned?" asked Bob.

James had nothing planned, really. But before he and his friends could brainstorm, a bright orange laser beam flew through the room, punching a hole through the back wall. After a few ominous heavy footsteps, the cybertronic battlesuit appeared on the other side of the broken wall. It crunched over the debris and came lumbering into the remains of the ballroom, headed straight for James and his friends. Pinky Joe was back to do more damage. Thinking on his feet, James motioned for his friends to spread out to either side. "I'll try to distract him!" he said. "One of you needs to jump on his back and open the control panel to flip the emergency killswitch! Ready?"

The battlesuit lumbered forward. James was hopeful about his plan – Pinky Joe seemed to recognize him.

"Ready!" said Bob and Ramesh.

"Save us, James!" screamed Anne.

James took a step forward, holding up his palm and stopping the battlesuit dead in its tracks. "Pinky Joe," he said. "I know you can hear me in there. You're smarter than the other rats – maybe you can't understand what I'm saying, but you can tell we're in danger. You have to stop your rampage! Come out of the battlesuit – no one's going to blame you! We have cheese, lots of cheese, and we-"

Bob and Ramesh both leaped onto the back of the battlesuit, but it was too fast. They should have waited to see f James could get Pinky Joe to come out himself – now, feeling the extra weight through the Neural Pickup sensors that gave Pinky Joe sensations of the battlesuit itself, the lab rat seemed to be panicking. The battlesuit swung wildly back and forth, taking broad steps across the ballroom and smashing the few tables that were left standing. Several plasma beams fired out in random directions, forcing James, Anne, and Miss Thrope to take cover. Over the top of a shattered table, James could see his two friends flung off the back of the robot, rolling across the ground and narrowly scrambling away from being stepped on.

_ No_, thought James. _This is my doing. Well, mostly Drew's doing, but a little bit of my doing. And I have to be the one to step up to the challenge._

James got up from behind the broken table, his face steely with resolve. Bob and Ramesh had already run for cover. He strode forward, trying to get Pinky Joe to stop again, but the lab rat was in an excited mood, and there was no way the battlesuit was going to stop. Just as it was about to head out of the ballroom again, James leaped on one of its legs, clinging for dear life. He couldn't let it go back through the campus – it had done enough damage already.

The machine was bucking like a bronco, but James managed to grab on to the back, clinging desperately until he could find a foothold on the battlesuit's leg and get in a better position to access the control panel. For just a moment, he was worried there was no way to open the thing – he didn't have a screwdriver with him. Fortunately, it looked like it had been partially knocked open, probably during one of the times the battlesuit crashed through a building. He tried prying it open further, jerking the metal with one hand and clinging to the battlesuit with the other. It opened a couple of inches – but then it refused to budge any further. James forced his fingers through the crack beneath the control panel and searched for the killswitch as the battlesuit raged across the campus, his fellow students scattering in all directions as they screamed in terror.

Just a little more... there it was...

The battlesuit slowed down, finally lurching to a halt right in the middle of an open park area between several buildings. It had been just about to tear through a wooden gazebo, which was right in the center of the quad, past some hedges and surrounded by a cobblestone path. The sound of police sirens were blaring not far away; apparently the Middleton Police had finally arrived. He saw several cars barreling through the campus in the distance. But they didn't need the police anymore – James had already taken care of everything. The battlesuit was stopped.

"You did it!"

He looked back over his shoulder and saw his friends running from the science building as they approached. They were all cheering, too. James smiled; he had saved the day, no doubt about it.

"That was amazing!" said Drew as he approached the battlesuit. "How did you pull it off?"

"Sheer determination," said James.

He pressed another button beneath the control panel to open the battlesuit's cockpit cover. Pinky Joe scampered out and perched on his shoulder as he leaped down from the battlesuit. Anne came up to him and swooned. "You saved my life!" she exclaimed. "We should go out sometime."

"Absolutely!"

James noticed several members of the Society of Engineers stepping forward from among the crowd that was gathered around them. That Chester boy seemed to be their unofficial spokesman – he stepped forward and shook James' hand. "That was an impressive display of engineering skill, not to mention fearlessness. You're now a member of the Society of Engineers, James Possible. Congratulations!"

James hugged Drew, Bob, and Ramesh – now they were all in!

The police officers arrived beside the battlesuit, Drew's father among them. Ken Lipsky slapped James on the shoulder – fortunately not the one where Pinky Joe was perched. "You're a hero, kid," he said. "My son could learn a lot from you. We won't be pressing charges, seeing as you saved the day."

James shook hands with the officers, and then grabbed Anne by the waist, leaning dramatically forward as he gave her the greatest kiss she had ever gotten. A number of students had gathered around the scene, and a wild cheer rose up from the crowd as they saw the kiss. Surrounded by his friends and his new lover, the hero of the hour, James looked out over the horizon. The future was bright. Well, it was still dark - but, figuratively speaking, the future was bright.

XX

"All lies!"

Drew's accusation cut James off, but he had been waiting for his story to be interrupted, anyway. It was true that his memory had failed him a couple times earlier, but this time, James knew he was making things up. Partly to get a rise out of Drew, and partly to get a reaction from his wife. He noticed Anne rolling her eyes at him. The group stopped on their walk through the campus, giving Drew their attention.

"Lies, Drew?" asked James with a smirk. "Why would you say that?"

"That is not at all what happened, and you know it."

"So what really happened?"

"I was the one who saved the day! _That's_ what happened!"

James and his wife both scoffed at Drew's claim.

"I don't believe that," chipped in Kim, "but he's got a point about you making stuff up, dad. I remember you mentioned this story to me a long time ago and you said the cybertronic battlesuit was tiny. What gives?"

"It _was_ tiny! It was barely larger than the first story of a building!"

Although Kim looked skeptical, James saw his two sons nod in agreement as they accepted the explanation at face value. He wasn't surprised – his Kimmie-cub was a genius in her own way, but she didn't have a lot of experience in building cybertronic robots of any kind, whereas his sons knew where he was coming from. Even Drew nodded in agreement.

"Your father has a point, Kim Possible. Think about the giant robot I made from stolen Nakasumi Toy Company technology. In giant robot measurement, that would be considered a solid 'medium' in size."

"Whatever."

"That is not to say that James isn't wrong about _everything_ else he said, of course. For instance, I remember you being perfectly fine with installing plasma blasters on that battlesuit, Possible!"

"I was not! That was all your idea."

"Lies! And you were the one who accidentally sent the battlesuit crashing through the laboratory wall like a complete buffoon when you were trying to break in to rescue Pinky Joe! Now, allow me to give you all the _correct_ version of events."

"Oh, yeah," said Shego, "like you're gonna tell the truth any more than he did."

Drew sputtered indignantly. "What's my support, Shego?"

"Um, I think my back is using it all up to carry this huge stomach, Doctor D. Too bad."

"_Nnnngh!_"

Anne cleared her throat to attract everyone's attention.

"How about I explain what really happened?"

"Who says _you'll_ tell the truth?" said James and Drew in unison.

"Because I'm a woman."

Drew pointed an accusing finger. "That's so sexist!"

"I'm pretty sure you two can't tell the story the way it really happened when you're around each other," said Anne. "You two boys are both trying to compete with each other. You don't brag this much most of the time, James."

"She's right," said Kim. "Mom tells the story."

James laughed good-naturedly. His wife had a point. He had been feeling defensive about his role in the whole Pinky Joe incident since Drew was following them around, and he had to admit that he still felt competitive around his ex-friend. He had always been kind of dismissive of Drew's abilities – maybe not as much as Bob and Ramesh were – but a lot of that came from insecurity. After all, the man _was_ a genius, even if he had squandered that in years of supervillainy and pointless world domination schemes. But still, James was mostly just having fun with his story. If Drew hadn't interrupted him, he would have explained how they _really_ stopped Pinky Joe, sooner or later. No doubt about it!

"So what really happened, Mrs. Dr. P?"

Anne patted Ron on the shoulder as they continued walking aimlessly along the campus. Eventually they wanted to go visit the dorm where Jim and Tim would soon be moving in, and they had a couple more events scheduled in an hour or two, but for now, they were just enjoying the weather and James' storytelling. Her husband had embellished a few things, but his version of the story was mostly right – at least about the parts where Anne was actually present.

Until this ending, anyway. But it was obvious James had just been toying with his friend.

"Well, Ron," she said, "I was at the science mixer..."

XX

The banner hanging over the middle of the ballroom read 'Welcome to the Class of '86 Science Mixer!". Whoever had made the banner had run out of room, and the hand-painted phrase's words scrunched up as they neared the right edge of the banner until they were nearly illegible. Anne looked around the ballroom, wondering why she had even decided to attend the science mixer.

It wasn't that she was shy, exactly, but social events weren't really her scene – between going to a party or reading a good article about brain research in a scientific journal, she'd usually choose the latter. But she supposed it was a good idea to mingle sometimes, even if nobody here was planning a medical career like she was. At the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology, the bulk of the students were engineers – or people involved with technological research in one way or another. And other than a couple of people she had already chatted with at the mixer, none of them were temporary students who normally went to Upperton, either. She probably wouldn't see any of these people after her classes this semester at MIST were over and she returned to her regular university.

Unless she kept in touch with Bob and Ramesh. They were friendly enough. And James, although he was a little irritating sometimes. Drew could be tolerable, but sometimes he seemed completely unhinged. She had no idea how he had made it through college as far as he had so far.

"Anne!"

It was the very people she had been thinking of. Well, two of them, anyway. Bob and Ramesh approached her through a group of people chatting around the table with the punch bowl. She still hadn't gotten a drink for herself, having been stopped by the two fellow Upperton students she already knew. "Hey, guys," she said. "Having fun?"

"We are having very much fun," said Ramesh. "We did not expect you to be here."

"Yes, well," said Anne, pausing for a nervous cough, "I changed my mind, I guess. Just thought I'd stop by and see how things are going. Where's James, by the way?"

"We're not sure," said Bob. "He and Drew came here with us, but they both disappeared."

"Strange. I thought you guys were all coming with dates, by the way? Didn't you mention that, Ramesh?"

The two of them looked at each other like they were hiding something.

Ramesh nodded. "I did say that. They were..."

"Indisposed," finished Bob when his friend struggled for words.

"That's too bad. I would have liked to meet them."

"Have you tried the punch?" asked Ramesh. "It is delightful!"

Anne shook her head. She walked over to the punch table, about to grab the ladle and a plastic cup so she could pour herself a drink, when she did a double-take at the sight of Miss Thrope standing on the opposite side of the table, staring blankly at what looked like nothing in particular. "Miss Thrope?" she asked.

The teacher stared at her as if she hadn't noticed Anne at first. "Yes, what is it?"

"Oh, I was just saying hi. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I'm obligated by the Science Department to attend this event."

"That explains it."

"You've been doing well in Introduction to Computational Methods of Nanobiotechnologies, by the way," said Miss Thrope. "The only people who could give you a run for your money are James Possible and Drew Lipsky, but they couldn't follow directions if their lives depended on it. We need more students like you here at MIST – it's too bad you're getting a degree at Upperton."

"I might take more classes here in the future," said Anne. "You never know."

Miss Thrope nodded, her lips parting in what looked like a forced attempt at a smile. After a moment, however, the lips fell back down into her usual frown, as if both of them had collapsed from sheer exhaustion. "I can't do this," she said. "I was trying to be conversational, but it's like nails on a chalkboard. I'm going to go sit in the corner now."

"Okay."

Anne stared in bemusement as her teacher left the table with the punch bowl. Probably not a good place to be standing if she wanted to avoid conversation, anyway. Bob and Ramesh stood around awkwardly, obviously not quite sure how to initiate a conversation with her. She seemed to be more social than either of them, even if she wasn't a big fan of things like this either, but fortunately they didn't have to stand around awkwardly for too long, as several students suddenly appeared around them, grabbing Bob and Ramesh by their hands and shaking enthusiastically.

"Congratulations on joining the Society of Engineers!" one of them said.

"Yeah, that rocket explosion at your townhouse was awesome," added another.

Bob and Ramesh blushed. "Why thank you," they said.

Anne waited for her friends to introduce the newcomers to her, but it looked like Bob and Ramesh didn't really know them that well, either. Since she had been at the townhouse for their rocket launch and barbecue, however, she did know about their good luck in joining the engineering club.

"I'm Chester," one of the boys said, shaking her hand and staring in a slightly creepy way for a moment before turning back to Bob and Ramesh. "So when are your two friends going to do their demonstration?"

"James and Drew?" asked Ramesh.

"That's right."

Bob shrugged. "We don't know. They've been keeping it quiet, but I think-"

An orange-red laser beam cut through their conversation, and the punch bowl. Anne stared as the punch spilled over the table and the floor, half of the bowl spinning off and smashing against the wall while the other half lay on the table. She frowned, looking over at the smoking hole in the ballroom's wall where the laser had come through. The room grew quiet as the partygoers stared at the hole in confusion. Anne hadn't organized the thing, but she was pretty sure random laser beams were not part of the annual science mixer experience.

"What in the world was that?"

Another laser beam shot through the room, followed mere seconds later by a crashing cacaphony as the ballroom's outer wall suddenly burst inwards, sending everyone running for cover. The table with the punch bowl was on the opposite side of the room, so Anne and her friends were safe from harm - but it was still a shocking sight. The wall caved in further as something big and dangerous stomped through it. Once the dust settled, Anne recognized what it was: the cybertronic battlesuit James and Drew had showed her at the townhouse.

It looked like the Society of Engineers was getting their demonstration.

"Is that _James?_" asked Bob.

Anne peered more closely at the battlesuit as it trampled through the ballroom, knocking some paneling from the ceiling, as it barely had room to fit. People went running past them left and right, screams filling the air, but she could still focus enough to see the cockpit. From the looks of it, there was no one inside at all. Although, just for a split second, she thought she saw something very bizarre. But she must have been imagining it.

"I do not see anyone inside it," said Ramesh.

Anne shook her head. "Me neither!"

"I thought I saw a rat," said Bob.

Maybe Anne wasn't imagining it. James _had_ said something about rescuing Pinky Joe. And now that she thought about it, he had been very insistent on their modifications to the Neural Pickup working on a pilot of any size. But even for him, this seemed like a really stupid way to impress the Society of Engineers...

"Anne, duck!"

She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't noticed the battlesuit take a sudden turn and head straight towards her. Bob and Ramesh both dove at her, trying to knock her aside in time to save her, but they ended up knocking against each other and falling to either side. Anne dove with them just as the machine's leg came swooping by, obliterating the remains of the punch table. She turned on the floor and looked up at the cockpit; this time, there was no doubt about it. She caught a good look at the pilot. Pinky Joe was on a rampage.

The three of them got up from the ballroom floor as the battlesuit kept moving. By now, most of the partygoers had fled into other rooms in the science building or out of the gaping hole in the wall. Pinky Joe veered wildly back towards the hole in the wall with his battlesuit. From what Anne could see, the mouse either had no idea where he was going, or was just scared or confused – maybe both. Pinky Joe tore another hole in the wall as he went back out onto the campus grounds, firing lasers left and right and stomping off towards another building.

"Unbelievable!"

Anne saw Chester emerge from behind a pile of rubble, watching the battlesuit as it left.

"There's no way James or Drew are getting into the society after _that_ little stunt!"

"I don't know," said another society member who had been hiding behind the rubble with him. "I've never seen a rat piloting a cybertronic battlesuit before."

"I have. So many times."

Anne rolled her eyes. "When was that, exactly?"

Chester hesitated, but recovered just in time. "In issue 57 of _Animal Battlesuit Battles_, thank you very much."

"That was a good one," his friend agreed.

Anne dusted the debris off of her dress as she looked around the ballroom, now almost cleared of people except a few students lingering here and there. Although she did notice Miss Thrope, still sitting at a chair in the corner of the room and reading some magazine, apparently oblivious to the destruction around her. Bob and Ramesh were helping a few dazed and confused partygoers make their way out of the room. She looked down at her dress, torn and slightly burned from what must have been a near miss from that first laser beam. So much for looking good. Why was she even wearing such a fancy dress? Who was she trying to impress?

"James! Drew!"

Bob's yell interrupted Anne's thoughts. She saw James and Drew bounding in through the broken ballroom wall – behind them, the battlesuit was still firing lasers haphazardly in the distance. "Glad to see you two are alright!" said James, not noticing her yet.

"Yes indeed, said Ramesh. "It was very fortunate that absolutely no one was harmed when half the science building seemed to collapse around us! It was almost as if we were in some kind of television show."

By this time, Miss Thrope had gotten up from her chair in the corner of the room and folded up her magazine, as if noticing that there had been a catastrophe around her. She approached the group. James noticed Anne, as well as his nanobiotechnology teacher. "What are you two doing here?"

"I am obligated by the Science Department to attend this event," said Miss Thrope for the second time that night.

James turned to Anne. For some reason, she suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"I, um – I just thought I'd stop by the party and see what was going on," she stammered.

"Possible, Lipsky" said Miss Thrope, "are you two responsible for this?"

"Technically speaking," said James. "But don't worry! We're going to stop Pinky Joe, no doubt about it! We just needed Bob and Ramesh to join us."

"What do you have planned?" asked Bob.

James looked at his friends, then at Drew, then at Anne. They stared silently back.

"Well, I didn't get that far yet."

"There's a kill switch on the battlesuit's back, beneath a control panel," said Drew. "If one of us could get on the thing and pry it loose, we might be able to disable it."

"Sounds too dangerous."

The boys began huddling together as they tried to figure out how to stop the rat-ridden juggernaut James and Drew had released on an unwitting campus. Although they were ignoring her, Anne was trying to think of ideas as well. They needed to disable the battlesuit – but to do that, they had to get close to it without being stomped by a steel foot or fried by lasers. Maybe they could lead Pinky Joe into a trap, somehow. For some reason, her mind kept lingering on a nearby dining hall...

"You guys?"

The boys broke off their huddle to look at her.

"I've got an idea. Everyone listen up!"

XX

Anne had been thinking on her feet – literally – ever since she had left what was left of the ballroom, but a plan was definitely taking shape. The group had split up; James and Drew had headed off towards a construction area on the other side of campus in hopes of finding a strong metal cable of some kind, while Bob and Ramesh had joined Anne as the three of them headed for the dining hall she had in mind.

"Why are we going this way?" asked Bob.

"We're going to need to lead Pinky Joe back towards Drew and James when they get what they're looking for."

"How do we do that?"

But there wasn't time to stop and explain what she had in mind – all three of them were already starting to run out of breath from running, anyway. In a few moments, they'd find out if her plan could work or not.

It wasn't long before they reached the dining hall. They could hear Pinky Joe still firing plasma beams from his battlesuit, not far away – by this time, however, most of their fellow students had taken cover or fled from the campus entirely. Anne burst through the dining hall's double glass doors. At this time of the evening, it should have been bustling with students getting their dinner, but it was mostly empty, except for a few people gathered nervously near windows as they watched outside.

"Excuse me," said a woman as Anne made a beeline for the kitchens, "where are you going?"

"I need to get some food."

"The dining hall is closed. Campus emergency."

"Yes," said Anne, trying to be patient, "that's why I need to get some food."

She ignored the woman's complaints and headed through the kitchen doors, Bob and Ramesh right behind her. She had taken a quick glance at the food counters outside and didn't see what she was looking for – maybe people had eaten it already, before the chaos on campus began. Fortunately, after weaving her way past various sinks, prep tables, kitchen appliances and shelves of pots and pans, she burst through the door of a pantry and found rows and rows of food in storage. More specifically, she found the one thing she was looking for.  
"What is going on?" asked Ramesh. "What is your plan?"

Anne grabbed two packaged cheese wheels from their spot on the pantry shelf.

"Bait," she said.

Bob and Ramesh nodded, although they looked nervous at what she was implying. There were more cheese wheels, all piled on top of each other – she had seen them in the dining hall before, taken out and sliced into ready-to-serve pieces and placed decoratively out at the food counters for diners to pick up. She motioned for Bob and Ramesh to each grab two of their own in each hand. Once they were loaded up with cheese, they headed out of the kitchen, back into the dining hall.

"Where are you going with those?" yelled the woman. She seemed to be some kind of manager at the dining hall. Not that it mattered to Anne. "We're borrowing them," she said.

She dashed past the woman, ignoring her protests once again. Instead of heading out the front door, Anne took her two companions out the back – she had been to the dining hall before, and she knew there was a small employee parking lot behind it. For a moment, she thought one of them was going to have to hotwire someone's car. She didn't know how to do that, and while Bob and Ramesh were both solid engineering types, she got the impression that hotwiring a car might be the kind of thing they'd have no idea how to do. Before she had to worry about it, however, she came across a man who had just opened his car door.

"Excuse me, sir!"

The man stopped and stared at her. Anne had been running, but she skidded to a halt in front of the man, a cheese wheel clutched in each hand. She tucked one wheel under her opposite armpit to free up a hand.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to pick up my girlfriend on campus."

"You don't want to do that," said Anne. "Driving across campus is dangerous – there's a confused lab rat piloting an unstoppable cybertronic battlesuit. It's better to take cover indoors. If you keep your head low, the lasers probably won't hit you."

The man gaped at her – Anne couldn't tell if it was because he had been totally unaware of a giant robot running wild on campus, or because he didn't know what to say to her useful advice. Still, she didn't have time to waste. Seconds were ticking away, and while Pinky Joe still sounded like he was nearby, things could get really hairy if he ended up heading in the direction of downtown Middleton. She had been running on pure adrenaline ever since she left the ballroom with Bob and Ramesh. Almost without thinking, she grabbed the man's keys from his hand and threw the cheese wheels into the passenger seat of his car, slipping into the driver's side as he watched in disbelief.

"I need to borrow your car," she said. "What's your name?"

"Wha – it – Nathan?"

"Your whole name?"

"Nathan Andrews."

"I'll try to remember to get it back to you," said Anne. "Bob, Ramesh – get in already!"

Bob and Ramesh had also been standing in shock, but they hastily opened the back doors of the car and climbed inside. Anne pulled out of the spot before they had even closed their doors as Nathan stood to the side. Finally realizing what was going on, he slapped the side of the car in an attempt to get Anne to stop, but she drove away without looking back. That had to be the first time she had carjacked anyone. But lives were at stake!

"Did we just steal a car?" asked Bob.

"I believe so," said Ramesh.

The parking lot and the dining hall receded from view in the rear view mirror as Anne took a road that led into the heart of the campus. Before long, the cybertronic battlesuit loomed up ahead, coming around the corner of a building which sported several smoking craters from where the robot's wild plasma shots had hit. The road veered off in the wrong direction, so Anne took the car bouncing over the curb and began to drive on grass. Some decorative bushes were coming up ahead – she hit the accelerator and drove through them, hearing a faint scream from Bob and Ramesh as she jerked the wheel to the side and brought the car in a wide arc past the battlesuit before skidding to a stop.

"Dangle the cheese wheels out of the windows!"

Bob and Ramesh looked at her in the rear-view mirror like she had just told them to fling themselves from the car while she was driving it. "What did you say?" said Ramesh.

"We need to get his attention and keep it!"

"I do not think hanging out of the windows is a great idea if we're about to drive."

"Well, you'd better think of something else."

Bob and Ramesh looked at each other and then jumped quickly out of the car, heading to the back and opening up the trunk just enough to wedge the cheese wheels inside so they were partially visible. Anne waited impatiently for them to get back inside. Once they did, she honked the horn insistently.

Pinky Joe had been moving around aimlessly in the battlesuit, but at the sound of the horn, he started to shift towards them. Bob and Ramesh put on their seatbelts and braced themselves as Anne accelerated again. It was possible they didn't even need the cheese wheels; maybe honking was enough. But she wanted to make sure she could lead Pinky Joe to where they needed to go. And Pinky Joe Curly Tail had spent pretty much his whole lab rat career in hot pursuit of cheese.

"I do not like this!" yelled Ramesh.

Bob didn't say anything intelligible, although Anne thought she heard a retching sound as the car swerved wildly back and forth on the uneven, unpaved terrain over which she was driving. She realized she was going a little too fast – she slowed down just a bit to let Pinky Joe catch up. "Sorry, guys," she said. "Don't barf, it's not our car!"

"Easy for you to say."

The battlesuit pounded across the quad they were driving through as Anne headed towards another small road. She saw it in the mirror, its cockpit window glinting in the moonlight as it loomed up behind them – objects were _definitely_ larger than they appeared. Not only that, but she heard a blistering crackle as a plasma laser fired off from the battlesuit's hand, narrowly missing the car's body, but vaporizing the side mirror that Anne had just been looking at.

"You can go faster now!" yelled Bob.

Anne hit the road and sped up as Pinky Joe trailed behind. She knew there was a much larger parking lot just up ahead – where her own car was parked, actually. The construction site where she had sent James and Drew was adjacent to that lot, if her memory served her right. Hopefully the two of them had found what they needed. If things weren't already set up when she got there, they'd be back at square one. She was hoping her theory about the parking lot was correct, too.

"He is catching up!"

Almost before Ramesh finished shouting the warning, he and Bob screamed in fright as a laser beam punched through the car, narrowly missing Anne's head as it burned a hole in the windshield glass. She swerved, almost losing control of the car after her instinctive dodge away from the laser. The car went careening off the curb, skirting dangerously close to a campus building, but she managed to gain control again and sent them sailing through a chain link fence as she got back on her path to the parking lot. It was in sight now. Not only that, but Pinky Joe looked like he had been temporarily confused by the car's erratic movement.

"Keep your heads down," she said.

"Are we there yet?"

' "It's just ahead!"

The small road through campus had been almost empty of vehicles, but she reached an intersection just before the parking lot with a number of cars going past. She honked her horn wildly, but she was forced to slow down. The battlesuit drew closer behind them, and several cars in the intersection stopped as their drivers caught sight of the strange spectacle. Another laser beam arced overhead, this time barely grazing the top of the car.

Unfortunately, the battlesuit was almost on top of them. A couple of people had bailed out of the cars stopped in the street and ran off screaming at the sight; although a few cars were still trying to get through the intersection, Anne had no choice. She kept honking and drove through, hoping no one was going to smash into her. Fortunately, she made it through, with the sound of tires screeching behind her. The big parking lot was up ahead. There was a guardhouse at the lot's entrance with a lowered gate arm, but Anne plowed right through it and into the lot. She caught a glimpse of the guard himself already running off at the sight of Pinky Joe in his battlesuit.

Just as she was about to slow down, however, she saw another flash in the rear-view mirror – Pinky Joe had fired another laser. An ominous sound came from beneath the car. Coupled with a sudden jarring bump, it told her one of the tires had been blown off. She hit the brakes. It was too late; the car went careening off to the side and slammed into a row of parked vehicles at an angle. Anne felt herself smacking back painfully into her seat as the airbag deployed. She groaned, struggling to deflate it. They didn't have much time to get out; she could already hear the battlesuit's stomping growing louder.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Not emotionally!"

At least her friends were alright – she had been driving too fast for a parking lot, but running from a gigantic plasma blaster-equipped robot piloted by a crazed lab rat had a way of making her a little wild at the wheel. She managed to get the airbag under control and wriggle out of the car, helping Bob and Ramesh come out of the back door that was left undamaged by the crash. They weren't far into the parking lot, but Pinky Joe was already at the entrance. Another laser fired – it wasn't too close to them, but it hit a nearby car directly in the gas tank. Anne shielded her eyes as the car went up in a burst of flame and smoke, metal debris clattering loudly on the parking lot asphalt. She felt sorry for whoever owned that car.

It took her another second to realize that had been her car.

"Unbelievable!"

"What is it?" asked Bob.

"Nothing – we have to move."

"There are no cheese wheels left to entice him," said Ramesh. "They fell out of the trunk."

They still had to move – Anne turned around, heading farther into the lot in hopes of finding James and Drew. She didn't have to look long, as she bumped straight into James, almost falling over.

"Took you long enough!" said Drew, who was standing beside his friend.

"I don't know if you noticed," snapped Anne, "but our tire got blown out by one of your plasma blasters, Drew."

"It was both our ideas, not just mine!"

Anne pointed behind her. "He's right over-"

"Believe me," said James, "I noticed the giant battlesuit coming towards us. This way!"

The group headed farther into the lot, twisting and turning as they passed rows of cars. Another laser flew by overhead – she risked a glance back, and sure enough, the battlesuit was following them. It was possible that the rat was just trying to run after James, who it recognized, but Anne thought it was more than that. Her theory about the parking lot had been correct. Pinky Joe seemed to be avoiding stepping on the rows of cars, keeping to the narrow parking lot roads as it pursued them. She thought the parking lot was a lot like a gigantic maze; after all the testing Pinky Joe had gone through in the lab, it looked like the lot was bringing back some of that methodical behavior.

Which meant they could lead him more easily. Right where they wanted him to go.

"Anne, duck!"

She had been looking backwards for a moment at Pinky Joe as she ran – James' warning got her to turn around just in time to see the thick wire spread across the parking lot at about head level. She ducked underneath it, still running, just before it clotheslined her. Bob and Ramesh did the same thing. Once everyone was on the other side of the wire, James motioned for them to take cover behind the cars parked on either side of the little parking lot road. Anne ducked behind one of them next to Drew. She could see that they had extended the metal cabling they had gotten from the construction site, tying both ends to light poles in the parking lot so it stretched like a tripwire across the road.

"Isn't this exciting?" asked Drew.

"I think you and I have different definitions of exciting," said Anne.

Bob and Ramesh were hidden behind a car on the other side of the road, but James was still standing out in the open. He waved his arms as the battlesuit approached, jumping up and down to get Pinky Joe's attention. Anne was pretty sure he didn't need to try that hard – the battlesuit was coming straight for him. She flinched as another laser zapped by, hitting the parking lot with a poof of smoke. James began to back up, just in case the tripwire didn't work.

Fortunately, it worked perfectly.

The battlesuit lumbered forward, its legs hitting the metal cable. Just for a moment, Anne thought the cable would snap – and if that thing went flying back and whipped her or Drew, they'd probably be done for. But it didn't. One of the battlesuit's legs rose up, catching the cable on its metal foot, and as the weight of the chassis came forward, the battlesuit leaned inexorably forward until it finally toppled towards the ground. It hit the parking lot pavement, the cockpit window breaking and scattering shards of glass out over the asphalt.

"Pinky Joe!"

James rushed to the fallen battlesuit. Anne, Drew, Bob, and Ramesh emerged from behind the cars they had been using to hide – they had just taken the battlesuit down, but any cause for celebration was cut off at the thought of Pinky Joe being injured. Anne was amazed that she cared so much; it was James who loved the lab rat. And yet, she had seen it a few times over the last couple of weeks. It _was_ a very special rat.

"Pinky Joe Curly Tail!" yelled James, dropping to his hands and feet as he looked into the cockpit, crushed against the ground. "Pinky Joe, are you in there?"

Anne tried to get him off the ground – he was going to cut himself with all the glass. But he didn't have to look for very long. To both their relief, the little white lab rat came scampering out from the remains of the cockpit, rushing up James' shoulder and squeaking happily. Anne wondered if her imagination was playing tricks on her, but she could swear she saw the little rat wipe a little paw over its forehead, as if it was relieved to be free of danger.

"I'm so sorry, Pinky Joe," said James. "I didn't know letting you pilot the battlesuit would cause so much trouble!"

Anne looked skeptically at him. "Really? It doesn't seem like that much of a stretch, James."

"Well, I-"

The sound of police sirens interrupted them. Before they knew what was going on, the parking lot was brimming with cop cars. The sirens blared for a few moments until coming to a stop, and one car drove up right next to the fallen battlesuit. Several officers stepped out and approached them. Not only that, but Anne recognized Dean Barker among them. Judging by the almost inaudible hisses that James and Drew let out at the same time, they had noticed him, too. Dean Barker strode forward with a triumphant smile.

"Looks like I've got you two now!" he said.

The police officers pointed at the two. "It's them?"

"That's right. The robot is their invention."

"Is that thing disabled?" one the officers asked, pointing a gun at the fallen battlesuit.

Jame gulped. "Yes, sir."

Anne noticed Drew shrinking back as another officer approached. Drew seemed to know him, somehow. The first officer shook his head at Drew and his fellow officer. "Jeez, Ken," he said. "Can't your son stay out of trouble for five minutes?"

"Sorry, Chief Brody."

So the one officer was Drew's father! Anne was intrigued, and a little shocked by the almost instantaneous change in behavior coming from Drew. She had never seen him look so embarrassed before. And lord knew the boy did enough embarrassing things, even in the short time she had known him. As more officers began to emerge from their police cars, she got the distinct feeling that James and Drew were both in a lot of trouble. Although, now that she thought about it, she had technically carjacked someone about ten minutes ago. She was beginning to feel very nervous herself.

"Looks like we're gonna have to take you two to the station," said the first officer, apparently the Middleton police chief. "You're the two responsible for creatin' this battlesuit, right?"

"It was mainly James," said Drew.

"He's lying! It was mainly him!"

"Save it for the station."

The two of them pointed accusingly at each other, but dropped their hands, crestfallen, as they realized there was no way they were going to avoid trouble. But once he realized that, James grabbed Pinky Joe from off his shoulder and placed him on the ground. The officers stared in confusion, along with Pinky Joe himself, but James pointed past the parking lot. "Go!" he shouted. "Go, Pinky Joe! Get out of here and enjoy your freedom!"

The rat hesitated a little longer, and then scampered away.

Anne was wondering if James thought the officers actually cared about the escaped lab rat. They stared indifferently as Pinky Joe looked back at James one last time, as if saying goodbye, before turning and disappearing in the midst of a row of parked cars. Anne felt a pang of melancholy at seeing the little rat leave. She had to admit he was kind of cute. And while she hadn't understood James' desire to free Pinky Joe before, she was beginning to understand now, somehow. It seemed right. She hoped the little guy would find happiness.

Or at least one of those cheese wheels they had dropped from the trunk of their stolen car.

"You two are coming with us," said the chief. "Sorry about this, Ken, but we have to take your son into custody."

Ken nodded, looking disappointed, as he took Drew by the hand. The chief took James, and the four of them went back to the police car, stepping around the fallen battlesuit's metal bulk. Anne joined Bob and Ramesh as they stared blankly, not sure what to do. She could see James in the police car's back seat, looking sullen as it pulled back and turned around, exiting the parking lot.

At least they hadn't arrested her for the carjacking. Yet.


	7. Different Roads

**Different Roads**

XX

"Whoa, you were like a superhero!"

Jim and Tim looked at their mother in admiration. It was strange, James thought, to see them looking at their mother – they looked _down_ at her,since they were both almost a head taller at this point, but he couldn't shake memories of the two of them as children, always looking up. The two images seemed to be superimposed on top of each other, like the present couldn't quite shake off the past. Still, his boys were right. Although he was pretty sure he came up with the tripwire idea himself, Anne had been the hero of the hour, and she had come up with the idea of baiting Pinky Joe and leading him into a parking lot where he could be controlled more easily.

"That _was_ pretty badical, Mrs. Dr. P," said Ron. "Maybe you should consider a career in stunt driving."

Anne smiled. "I would, but stunt driving is a little on the boring side compared to neural surgery."

Although Ron and his sons seemed to think their mother was joking, James knew she wasn't, and Kim appeared to know the same thing. He certainly wasn't an expert on neural surgery, but he had learned enough from his wife over the years to know that it was some pretty tricky business. Even trickier than launching rockets – maybe.

"So what happened next?" asked Jim.

"Yeah," said Tim. "How'd you and Drakken get out of jail?"

"Because we were innocent, that's how!"

Everyone turned at the sound of Drew's insistent outburst.

"Doctor D, you've weren't even innocent when you were a _baby_."

"I resent that accusation, Shego. I was a very well-behaved baby – just ask my mother. But anyway, James and I got out of prison because they had nothing to stick on us! They just wanted to flout their authority, that was all!"

Kim coughed loudly. "Um, what about that whole 'destroying half of campus' thing? Sorry dad, I know you didn't exactly plan to do that, but seriously, that's a little bit on the supervillain side of things."

"Supervillain?" said James, staring incredulously at his daughter. "Let's not exaggerate, Kimmie – er, Kim."

Sometimes he had to remember that his daughter was all grown up now; even when she was seventeen, she sometimes got a little embarrassed when he called her Kimmie-cub. He supposed she'd probably like it even less now that she was a college graduate, pregnant, and when Drew and Shego were walking around the campus with them and listening to his story.

"So, seriously," said Ron, "how did you get out of jail?"

"Well," he said, "I do think Drew's father put in a good word for us. I don't know how Anne managed to avoid going to jail for her carjacking, though."

"I _did_ have to pay that Nathan Andrew's boy for wrecking his car," said Anne, narrowing her eyes at James. "It turned out we kept his girlfriend safe by drawing Pinky Joe Curly Tail's attention away from the building where she was hiding – otherwise he would have pressed charges. And let me tell you, James, if I _had_ gone to jail trying to clean up your mess, we probably wouldn't be together today."

James gulped at his wife's displeased expression. Even after all these years, how could she hold _that_ against him? Okay, so he had demolished half the campus and put everyone in danger, but everybody made mistakes – and it wasn't like he had told her to steal that car and divert Pinky Joe! That was her part of the plan, not his.

"Wasn't anybody hurt?" asked Kim.

"Not really," said James. "There were no deaths. Nothing beyond a few laser burns and sprained ankles, actually. It was incredibly lucky on our part."

"That was because the plasma blasters were not set to fatal," said Drew. "Only severely injuring!"

"Totally considerate," said Kim.

"Thank you. See, I'm not so evil."

"How did you guys not get expelled?" asked Ron. "If I did anything even _half_ that bad in high school, man, Mr. Barkin would have kicked me out that door before I even knew what hit me in the butt!"

"We _did_ get probation and a temporary suspension of classes," began James.

His daughter interrupted him. "And what about the Neural Pickup you stole from the Middleton Space Center?" she asked. "Didn't they press charges? How did you-"

"Wait, wait!" laughed James. "I'll explain everything, I promise!"

His family quieted down as he thought back to the day after the catastrophe. He and Drew had spent the night in jail, which was definitely not something he ever wanted to do again. Wondering what was going to happen next, wondering what his parents were going to think – it was a sobering experience. Once they had gotten out, however, their trouble hadn't been over yet. And now that he thought about it, Pinky Joe's rampage had ended up being the final nail in the coffin burying his friendship with Drew Lipsky.

The thought saddened him – but the past was past. Things changed. As was made clear by the fact that Drew was walking beside him now, a teacher at the very university that he had once left. All James could do was remember the way things used to be, and hopefully help his children learn something in the process.

XX

James hung up the phone with a sigh of relief before he sat down at the kitchen table in his townhouse.

Talking to his parents had gone pretty well, all things considered. They definitely weren't happy, but both his parents had gotten used to him causing trouble by now, and things could have been worse. That night in prison with Drew had been rough, and James shuddered to think of what could have happened if they had gotten in serious trouble with the law. Even with the university, he had managed to work things out. A little deal with the Board of Directors and he had gotten both himself and Drew off with just a suspension, when they could have faced expulsion or even criminal charges.

"Hey, guys," he said as Bob Chen and Ramesh walked into the townhouse's kitchen.

"Hello, James. How did the chat with your parents go?"

"Not bad, I guess. They're coming to pick me up. I guess they'll be here tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning depending on when they get a move on."

"That's a shame," said Bob. "You're going to fall behind with a week's suspension."

"I'm sure I'll pick it up." James smiled. "And besides - you guys will be here to help me, right?"

Bob and Ramesh looked at each other warily. James couldn't help feeling a bit guilty at their reaction – maybe he was being kind of flippant, after all that had happened. It was true that he and Drew had put their friends in danger with their battlesuit stunt. Definitely not something either of them had thought through carefully enough. And he didn't want to make it sound like he was just going to lean on his friends to help him out of the hole he had dug, even if it was much shallower than it could have been. "I'm just kidding," he said. "I'll just have to work harder than I get back. By the way, have you guys heard anything from Anne? She didn't post my bail by any chance, did she?"

"I do not think so," said Ramesh. "I have not seen her since last night, when you and Drew were taken to the jail. She did not seem happy with you."

James sighed. Things with her hadn't turned out so well. Anne was a know-it-all, sure, but he had been warming up to her lately. He was kind of hoping the daring lab rat rescue would impress her, but that obviously wasn't the case. He'd have to give her an apology when they saw each other in class after his suspension was over and he got back from home. In the meantime, he needed to talk with Drew, who was upstairs in his bedroom packing his things. He didn't know how Drew's parents had taken the news, but he couldn't help thinking it was probably not good. Especially Drew's dad.

He left Bob and Ramesh at the table, heading upstairs and easing open the door to Drew's room. His friend was on the floor, surrounded by a scattered collection of inventions, gadgets, and random pieces of metal. It looked like he was trying to figure out how to fit everything into a couple of suitcases. "Hey, Drew," he said. "How's it going?"

"How do you think, Possible."

James frowned. His friend was still in a bad mood. They hadn't talked very much in that prison cell overnight, either, although partly that was just a case of nervousness around their other burly cell mate, Carlos. Seemed like a nice enough guy, though – just big enough to take up half the cell.

"Do you need help?" he asked Drew.

"I do not."

"Look, I don't know why you're angry. We both got off easy."

"I'm angry at you because you sold the battlesuit to the university, James!"

Drew had been busy trying to fit a clunky Photon Inducer into a suitcase, but he stopped and whirled around as he made the accusation. James didn't appreciate his friend's attitude – it was _Drew_ who had added those plasma blasters to the battlesuit, anyway. "Look," he said, "that was the only way to get them to reduce our punishment! And after all the trouble that battlesuit caused us, I'd have thought you'd be happy to get rid of it."

"It wasn't just your invention," said Drew. "You didn't have a right to sell it without asking me. And what right does the university have to steal something we made? The two of us are geniuses, James! To give away our hard work to some useless bureaucracy that does nothing but force us to jump through hoops for their benefit – it's a crime! A crime, I tell you!"

James was at a loss for words. His friend didn't seem to understand the gravity of what they had done.

"You don't have to expect me back at the townhouse, by the way," said Drew as he sat on top of a suitcase and bobbed up and down, trying to get the clasp shut. "I don't see any point in being a student at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology when they don't appreciate my work, and try to punish me for having an independent spirit."

"What do you mean? You're dropping out?"

"That's right. I'll take my talent elsewhere."

Years ago, James might have understood his friend's attitude. He had to admit that sometimes he felt out of place at the university, and sometimes their classes could be inane, their teachers incompetent or stodgy. But they were grad students now, working towards a career, and Drew didn't seem to understand that. The two of them had had a lot of fun together in the past, but that couldn't last forever, could it? Bob and Ramesh had already accepted that. James was lagging a little, but after his near brush with battlesuit-induced catastrophe, he was getting the hint. But Drew seemed to be taking a very different lesson away from their experience.

"You should think about dropping out, too, James," said Drew. "This place is going to stifle you."

"Why does it have to be so black and white, Drew? Maybe I can fight the system from the inside."

"No! The system will only brainwash you and use you like some kind of mindless syntho-robot. The only way to fight it is by leaving it and doing – well, I don't know. Something _radical_."

As they spoke, the sound of a car pulling up the driveway outside the townhouse came through Drew's open window. James couldn't see outside from his spot at the bedroom door, but he knew who it was. Drew's parents lived in Middleton, so they didn't have to drive as far as James' parents did to pick their son up. Drew had finished packing his suitcases just in time, and they lay on the floor with a few other bags. Drew picked one up and threw it in his friend's direction. James grunted as he caught it; apparently he was being enlisted to help his friend load things onto the car. Drew picked up the other things, almost falling over from the load he was carrying between his arms, and the two of them made their way downstairs and out the front door.

"There's more stuff in my room," said Drew to Bob and Ramesh, who had emerged from the kitchen.

James nodded to Drew's parents. "Hey, Mr. And Mrs. Lipsky," he said, placing the bag he was holding into the already opened trunk of their car. "How's it going?"

Judging by the raised eyebrow Drew's father was shooting him, it was a stupid question. "Er, right," he said.

"It's going well, sweetie! Our little Drewbie's coming back home!"

Claudia clapped her hands together in excitement. Apparently, Drew's mother was not as worried about her son's campus shenanigans.

Drew, Bob, and Ramesh finished bringing out the rest of the baggage, and before long the car was loaded up with his personal possessions. Drew's parents got back into the car – even if Claudia Lipsky was kind of chatty, Ken Lipsky wasn't the type for small talk, and now that the car was loaded up, they were ready to go. Still, James wasn't sure he was ready to see his friend go. A rift had been widening between them lately. Somehow, he knew they couldn't jump over last night's events. It was too far now. But he still worried about his friend. He wondered what the future would hold for Drew Lipsky.

"Goodbye, James."

James squinted in the sunlight. "At least think about not dropping out, okay?"

"I'll think about it."

Drew's promise sounded hollow, but James knew that was all he was going to get. Once his friend made up his mind, there was very rarely any way to change it. He stood awkwardly on the lawn and watched as Ken Lipsky nodded curtly to him before backing the car out of the driveway. Drew stared at him from the backseat for just a moment, but then turned and looked blankly ahead. The car headed down the street until it turned a corner, out of sight. Their neighborhood grew quiet, except for the chirping of birds.

That, and the sound of approaching footsteps.

James didn't have long to think about his friend's departure, because he turned and saw Dean Barker coming down the other side of the road. For just a moment, he froze in fear – was the dean coming to ruin his academic future for good? But James reminded himself that couldn't be the case. He had already settled things with the university that morning, and the dean couldn't do anything about it. There was someone else walking with Barker – James took a closer look and realized it was the scientist from the Middleton Space Center who had invented the Neural Pickup: Doctor Bosworth. Maybe he was about to get into some kind of extra trouble.

"Possible!"

James nodded as the two men came to a halt in front of him.

"You're in big trouble _this_ time, Possible. Stealing from the Middleton Space Center, are we?"

James smiled nervously. "That was Drew's idea," he said.

"Tell it to the police."

"Um, I just got out of the station early this morning, actually."

"Well, tell it to them again. Doctor Bosworth is here to talk about-"

"Actually, I'm not here to get him in any trouble," said Bosworth.

James hadn't been expecting that, but he couldn't help grinning at the sputtering, confused look that the dean gave the scientist. "I have a proposal for James," said Bosworth. "That's why I asked where he lived."

"I thought the Space Center was going to press charges?"

The scientist shook his head. Dean Barker turned to glare at Possible, as if he was a lion watching an antelope sprint just out of range, right when it had been on the verge of a kill.

"Looks like we don't need you here," said James. "If you don't mind, Mr. Bosworth and I would like a little privacy."

"I don't need any of your lip, Possible."

The dean stood fuming for a few more moments until he turned and awkwardly walked away, clearly at a loss for what else to do. On the one hand, James felt a little immature – he knew he had gone over the line last night, and half the campus was currently in smoking ruins. But on the other hand, the dean was just asking for it. And after he had made his deal with the university by selling off the battlesuit, he was beginning to realize that the dean was all bark and no bite. It was really the Board of Directors who controlled things. And if James could give them what they wanted, there wasn't much that Barker could do about it. And fortunately for him, they seemed to want that battlesuit for a little R&D.

"So what did you want to propose?" he asked Bosworth.

"I saw the way your battlesuit worked. And I haven't gotten the chance to look at the details, but it looked like you were using my Neural Pickup technology to let that lab rat pilot the thing."

"Pinky Joe Curly Tail," said James.

"Whatever. The point is, maybe I underestimated you. I'd be interested in seeing what kind of modifications you made to my technology. I don't like you and your friend stealing it from me, and Barker is right – I could press charges if I wanted to. I could have you both hung out to dry for what you did. But I had another idea."

James eyed the man warily.

"What's that?"

"Work for me. Take an internship at the Middleton Space Center."

Now _that_ was an interesting offer.

James considered the idea for a moment; he didn't have to think about it for very long. He had been skeptical about the Space Center, but it did seem like the kind of place to work if he wanted to start doing something with his time and talent. He needed to give it a chance, at least. And it was better than going to court, too. But he remembered something else about the Neural Pickup – he didn't want to press his luck, but if Anne was angry at him, he wanted to try to get one more thing out of Doctor Bosworth.

"I wasn't the only one who modified your invention," he said.

"Oh? Who else?"

"I have an acquaintance, a girl in my Introduction to Computational Methods of Nanobiotechnology course. Her name is Anne McMann. Both of us did some work tweaking your invention, so I can't take all the credit. She's interested in working at the Middleton Hospital – I know you don't work there, but is there some way you could put in a good word for her? Maybe you know somebody there? I bet you she'd like an internship."

Bosworth thought about it, then nodded.

"I can't promise anything, but I can try."

James was glad to hear it. Suddenly, things weren't looking so bad after all.

"Alright. I'll take your offer, then."

"Good. Come by the Space Center tomorrow at noon. The internship probably won't start until the summer, but we can talk about some more details."

James nodded and shook Bosworth's hand. The man headed off down the sidewalk as he returned to the townhouse, excited to tell Bob and Ramesh the good news. On the one hand, they might be excited to hear he had just bagged an internship at the Middleton Space Center – but on the other hand, they might be jealous. Especially if he had basically gotten it as a result of stealing and rampant destruction. Even to James, it _did_ seem a little unfair.

But he was going to use this opportunity to start changing. Last night had been a wake up call; it was time to grow up. Time to start taking responsibility. Not only did Drew seem to interpret everything as an affront to his genius, everyone as being against him, but he didn't understand the danger they had put their fellow students in. James had been feeling very guilty at the thought of what could have happened. Fortunately, the lack of casualties last night had been almost cartoonishly low, but things could have been worse. If anyone had been seriously hurt, they'd both be in much more trouble, and James didn't know how he'd be able to live with himself.

Drew didn't seem to care about that at all. It was like his friend kept getting more self-centered as time went on, like he couldn't learn from his mistakes, and instead leaped even further and further into his own flaws and insecurities. But James didn't want to fall into that trap.

From now on, he would be a new James Possible.

XX

The tale of Pinky Joe had kept them winding aimlessly around campus, and their walk – like the story – was coming to an end. They had gone just about everywhere they could go, and now that James was taking a pause in his tale, he noticed they had returned to the little campus quad in front of the orientation building, criss-crossed by hedge-lined cobblestone paths and dotted in the middle with a white-washed wooden gazebo. He led his family – along with Drew and Shego – down one of the paths, and they all stepped inside the gazebo to sit down and have a little rest.

When James had begun telling his tale, there was a lot he had forgotten. His walk through campus, seeing what had changed and what had remained the same, brought back a lot of memories. That orientation building just a few dozen yards away from the gazebo, for instance. He had completely forgotten when they went to the orientation meeting in the ballroom that morning, but it was the same ballroom where the science mixer had been held. It used to be the science building, Heisenberg Hall, and had obviously been rebuilt after its partial destruction by Pinky Joe.

He had also forgotten how close he was to Drew. How much of a role his old friend had played in that whole Pinky Joe incident. He had forgotten some of those early days with Anne, too, although he was embarrassed to admit it. But then, maybe those memories hadn't been forgotten, really. Just shelved in the back of his mind, waiting until he had a reason to pick them up again. He hoped his family had enjoyed the walk he had taken through his past as much as he did. Particularly his sons, since they might end up having some of those same experiences, although hopefully not _all_ of them.

"So, wait," said Tim, "what's the lesson we're supposed to learn from this?"

Jim slapped his brother on the back. "I know! If you're really smart and you can help somebody else make money, you'll never get in trouble for anything!"

James was not amused. "That's not it at all," he said. "I came really close to getting in trouble, boys. The moral is not to make the same mistakes I made. I got very lucky, and I could have-"

"Yeah, but you _didn't_ get in trouble."

"Exactly, dad," said Tim. "Oh, man, we should totally make our own giant mouse robot when we start college!"

James floundered for a response – this was definitely _not_ what he had been hoping to give his sons when it came to college advice. Why couldn't they learn a lesson about wearing flip-flops when they used the public showers, or about making sure to check the public transit schedule in winter so they didn't end up sitting out at a bus stop in the snow for forty five minutes? Why did their lesson have to be that they could always weasel their way out of trouble if they blew up half the campus? James supposed he only had himself to blame. When you were a Possible, things were always a little more complicated.

"That was a pretty cool story," said Ron. "You were seriously like a supervillain, Mr. Dr. P!"

"First Kimmie, now you? That really burns my biscuits, Ronald. I'm having trouble figuring out how building a cybertronic battlesuit makes me anything like a supervillain."

James had begun to trail off before he even finished defending himself. Okay, so maybe there was a little bit of a connection there. His family stared blankly at him, obviously in agreement – Shego and Drew seemed to think it was an obvious logical leap, too. "You were _totally_ like a supervillain," said Drew. "If I had kept in touch with you after I was suspended and tried to turn you over to the dark side, I have no doubt you'd be stealing candy from babies."

James raised an eyebrow. "Did _you_ ever do that?"

"Well, no, it's – perhaps one time, but that baby had a real attitude with - look, it's just a hypothetical example of what you might do. The point is, you were ripe for turning against the system, James. You would have taken a different path in life if it wasn't for that Bob Chen and Ramesh filling your mind with nonsense about walking the straight and narrow. You would have stuck it to the man, just like me!"

"Oh, Doctor D, you're such a rebel."

Missing his wife's sarcasm, Drew leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"You know it, Shego!"

"Wait a minute," said James, realizing he still didn't know what exactly what Drew and Shego's relationship status was. "Are you two just going out, or are you married?"

"Married," said Drew. "Just a few months ago, as a matter of fact. I didn't want mother giving me any trouble when Shego's belly started to balloon up," he said with a chuckle before wilting under his wife's glare. "That, and I love her, of course, and wanted to be with her together forever as soon as possible! Yes, that was the greater motivation. Anyway, we actually had our honeymoon on a private island in the Mediterranean, where Señor Senior Senior let us stay at a discounted rate. He and Junior dropped by to see how we were doing at a very embarrassing moment during our first night after the wedding, but other than that, it was a delightful experience."

James and his family wrinkled their noses at the mental image that came up.

"You didn't notice the ring?" Shego asked him.

She held up a hand, showing everyone her ring. James _hadn't_ noticed it. With a diamond that size on her finger, he must have been way too wrapped up in his reminiscing.

"I noticed it," said Kim. "Walking with _that_ thing weighing you down will throw out your back if you aren't careful."

"You're just jealous that mine's bigger than yours," said Shego.

Kim glanced down at her ring, a little defensively. "Drakken probably stole yours, anyway!"

"I did _not_!" said Drew. "Wait, which one was – let me look at that, Shego."

He glanced at her ring to make sure.

"No, definitely not. This particular ring was _not_ one of the ones I stole!"

"Okay," said Anne, "let's not start fighting again. We were all getting along so well, weren't we?"

The group settled down, enjoying a light breeze that wandered pleasantly through the gazebo. The occasional family walked by around them, as orientation was still going on, but the crowds had died down compared to earlier that morning. Most of the scheduled activities were over, anyway, and people were left to visit the campus on their own. James still wanted to look at his sons' dorm room – and not only that, but after telling his story, he wanted to wander a little farther off campus and see if he could take a trip down memory lane.

"So, wait," said Kim, "when did you and mom start going out? After you got her the internship at the hospital?"

James laughed heartily. "Oh, no. That battlesuit blew up her car! She didn't talk to me for at least a month."

James and his wife laughed at the memory.

"So when _did_ you guys get together?"

Now that his daughter asked, the memory came to mind easily. Unlike some, he had never forgotten this one, or even filed it away. He could remember it clear as day. James smiled as he looked around their little shelter from the rest of the campus. "Well, as a matter of fact, it happened in this very gazebo. Do you remember that, honey?"

Anne smiled and nodded. He was glad she remembered.

Drew and Shego looked down at their wooden benches and shifted uneasily, which confused James until he caught on and rolled his eyes at them. "That's not what I'm talking about," he said. "Come on, Drew. Do you really think I'm going to tell everyone about the first time we did-"

"_Dad!_" said Kim, Jim, and Tim in unison.

"Right. Sorry. Well, my first semester of grad school was almost over. I knew there were a lot of changes on the horizon, but I had my friends by my side, so I wasn't worried. There was only one thing bothering me..."

XX

It was a sunny day. Instead of risking his luck with the dining hall food or spending money on eating out, James had actually taken the time to make a sandwich that morning and bring it to campus in a paper bag, planning on eating outside somewhere. It was a good thing lunch time had rolled around, since his stomach had been rumbling through all of his morning classes – and Miss Thrope hated interruptions, gastric or otherwise. James wasn't sure what made him happier: having a tasty sandwich to eat, or being able to eat it with Anne, who had finally been warming up to him again.

"What'd you bring?" he asked as the two of them sat in the gazebo.

"Turkey," she said, fishing her own sandwich out of a bag.

"Mine too!" said James.

"What are the odds," said Anne with a sarcastic smirk.

"How about that Nanobiotechnology class this morning, huh? How does it feel knowing we'll never have to deal with Miss Thrope again?"

"Well, I won't have to deal with her again because I'm going back to Upperton," said Anne. "But how do you know _you_ won't have another class with her?"

"Oh, I'll be avoiding any classes with her in the future."

"I don't know, James. You don't want to jinx yourself."

"Hmm. Good point."

James took a bite of his sandwich, thinking about his plans for the summer. He had his internship at the Middleton Space Center coming up, which meant that he'd be sticking around Middleton for a while instead of moving back home. He'd miss his parents, but at the same time, he couldn't help thinking about the fact that it might mean he'd be spending more time with Anne. If her internship at the Middleton Hospital was starting this summer, she'd be here as well. He'd have to ask what Bob and Ramesh were doing, too. Anne had given him the cold shoulder for a long time after the whole Pinky Joe thing, but now that she was talking to him again, maybe she could be part of the gang. There was no telling what kind of shenanigans they'd get up to this summer! Nothing involving battlesuits, of course.

"It's a shame, though."

James looked up from his sandwich and musings. "What's that?"

"It's a shame our nanobiotechnology course is over."

"You'd say that, wouldn't you. I bet you're the only one in that class who's going to get an A once she grades everyone's final exams."

"That's not why I said it's a shame," said Anne. "I think Miss Thrope was finally warming up to you."

"That's impossible."

"Everything's possible for a Possible," said Anne.

James liked the expression. He'd have to keep that in mind.

"It's probably because you've been shaping up," she said. "No more campus rescue attempts involving lab rats and giant robots, no more scheming with Drew. You were actually starting to follow all the directions in class, too."

"Maybe Drew _was_ a bad influence," laughed James.

"Do you miss him?"

The question was a little unexpected. But now that James thought about it, he did miss Drew. He nodded wistfully. During their suspension – and even a couple of times afterwards – James had tried calling his friend at his house in Middleton, but Drew hadn't been interested in talking.

He had even stopped by once, right after he got back to Middleton after his suspension. He had only visited Drew's home once or twice before – when they were undergrads, they had the dorm together, and Drew didn't seem to like anyone hanging out at the house when he was with his parents. When James had stopped by the house, it looked like the garage was in the process of being torn down and repaired. Construction workers loitering around, trucks and debris everywhere. James would have guessed it might be something Drew and his father could do together – but when he had rang the doorbell, Drew's mother had answered and said her son wasn't feeling well. After another couple of calls that went nowhere, James decided his friend would get in touch when he wanted to.

But Drew had never gotten in touch.

He wondered if their argument at the townhouse had been the end of things. Right after they had gotten out of jail, when Drew was leaving the townhouse for his suspension. He had told James he wouldn't come back, that he was planning to drop out, but Drew was always dramatic like that, always overreacting to everything. And yet, considering the fact that his friend hadn't shown up on campus for the rest of the semester, this time it looked like he had followed through.

"You never know," said Anne, picking up on his sudden melancholy. "He might come back next semester."

James sighed. "It could be. Bob and Ramesh and I were a little hard on Drew sometimes, but he was fun."

Anne smiled. "Fun is one way to put it. I'm sorry you miss him, though."

"Thanks."

The two of them finished their sandwiches as they people-watched. Their fellow classmates were winding back and forth through the hedges, on their way to their last classes of the semester before summer break began. Or, for James, summer work. But he didn't mind; it would be fun. The scientist he was working under, Doctor Bosworth, seemed like less of a curmudgeon when you got to know him. And he'd have lots of interesting things to tell his friends over the course of the internship, no doubt. Both of whom, he noticed, had just appeared from a nearby building, headed in his direction as they caught sight of him.

"But you know what?" asked Anne.

"What?"

"I'll be starting my internship at the hospital this summer, so I'm staying here in Middleton. Which means you won't need to miss me."

When the kiss came, James was not expecting it. At first he thought it was just a kiss on the cheek, which was unusual but maybe just teasing – but no, Anne went straight for his lips. It was quick, and she seemed nervous, but the touch of her lips on his own sent an electric thrill through him. More electrifying than the time he and Drew had accidentally plugged an Energy Damper into a malfunctioning wall socket. She held onto the kiss for just the briefest of moments before pulling back.

The shock still lingered; James was too stunned to say anything. Anne flashed him a quick smile, blushing slightly, and grabbed her empty lunch bag as she left the gazebo, heading off to wherever she was headed. James sat and watched her as she headed off. He was hypnotized. He jumped in surprise as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Did I just see what I thought I just saw?"

Ramesh and Bob had arrived. They were both standing in the gazebo beside him as they watched Anne head off across campus.

"I think so," said James.

Bob punched him on the shoulder. "James Possible, you sly dog!"

"Love is in the air!" said Ramesh.

"You guys are going to be teasing me all day, aren't you."

"Of course!"

The three of them left the gazebo. He didn't know where his friends were headed, but his lunch with Anne had been quick, and he had nothing coming up on his schedule quite yet, so he was happy to walk around with them for a while. "We're headed to the Society of Engineers meeting," said Bob, answering his unspoken question. "We're doing a rocket launch behind their club house!"

"Sounds like fun," said James. "You're making me jealous."

Ramesh laughed. "You could have gotten in if Chester was not so unreasonable. Everyone else in the society thought the cybertronic battlesuit you and Drew made was completely reckless, and yet quite impressive also."

"Well, maybe next year."

"That is true. If at first you do not succeed, try and try again."

It was good advice. The three of them walked along the campus, talking about their plans for the future, and while James was happy to be with his friends, he wished Drew could have taken Ramesh's advice. After he had gotten in trouble with the university – even if it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been – it was like his friend had opted out, chosen to see the world as against him instead of learning to compromise.

Dropping out of college, to James, was like giving up. Sometimes you had to pick your battles – it wasn't all black and white, like Drew thought it was. You didn't have to sacrifice yourself or deny your true nature to get by in life, you just had to realize that not everyone agreed with you all the time. Not everyone had the same goals. He could work with that, but Drew couldn't. His friend was too inflexible – and now, he was on a new path in life. A different road than James wanted to take, even if he had flirted with it before. He wondered if they'd ever see each other again.

As he walked with Bob and Ramesh, a movement caught his attention. Something in the corner of his eye. He turned to his left, looking in the direction of a dining hall they were passing by. There on the ground, beneath some bushes planted alongside the building, he caught a brief glimpse of a little white rat, watching him as it held a piece of cheese between its little hands. Was it yet another friend he missed, a friend who had taken a different road?

Was it Pinky Joe Curly Tail?

The rat stuffed the cheese into its mouth and scampered underneath the bushes, lost in darkness. Maybe it was living near the dining hall for easy access to food. He hadn't seen Pinky Joe since the rat had scurried away in that parking lot after they took down the cybertronic battlesuit – just before he and Drew had been led away to prison. He had been wondering if his buddy was okay since then. But he had high hopes. Pinky Joe had gotten what he deserved, after all – his freedom. No longer a lab rat, but just a rat. And yet so much more than just a rat. Pinky Joe was probably living the high life now.

And he _was_ pretty sure it _was_ Pinky Joe Curly Tail he had just seen there in the bushes, too; maybe his imagination was playing tricks on him, but just before the rat scampered away, James could have sworn he saw the little guy give him a wink.

XX

* * *

_**Notes** - I suppose this could work okay as the end of the story, but there is one final chapter to go. I wanted to address a little bit more going on in the story's present. Of course, I seem to have a habit of adding an unneeded chapter onto stories sometimes - we'll see, hehe. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one._


	8. Old and Young

**Old and Young**

XX

The townhouse was the same as he remembered it. But the backyard was definitely different.

James and Drew stood behind the townhouse and looked at where the oversized shack once stood. Someone had torn it down since the 80's – not really surprising, since the thing wasn't in great shape even then – but there was still something sad about seeing a blank patch of grass, no different from the rest of the yard, where once he had enjoyed so many hours of tinkering and inventing. Drew looked like he was feeling the same thing.

"Things change," said James, patting Drew on the back.

"Hey, what are you two doing back here?"

James turned around to see a young man approaching them from the open patio door, sporting a huge head of frizzy hair and a pair of glasses. James was embarrassed to realize they had walked right into the back yard to see if the shack was still there – mostly because he had been following Drew's lead, and Drew thought nothing of it – even though the townhouse was occupied. From the looks of the boy approaching them, it was still being used as a residence for college students.

"Hello," said James, shaking the boy's hand. "I'm James Possible, and this is Drew Lipsky. We used to live in this townhouse a long time ago. We were just stopping by for a stroll down memory lane. Didn't mean to trespass on your property."

The boy stared at the two of them and adjusted his glasses, like he had forgotten how to have a conversation.

"Is something wrong?" asked James.

The boy's head switched rapidly between the two of them. "Wait a minute," he said. "You two are – James Possible, Drew Lipsky?"

"That's what I said."

"Are you the guys who were responsible for the Pinky Joe Rampage?"

James was surprised. "Yes, that's us," he said. "You know about that?"

"_Know_ about that? It's like a campus legend! Pinky Joe gets rescued from a science lab after being subjected to evil brain experiments that make him into a rodent supergenius, you guys build a mech for him, and he takes revenge on his human captors! Everybody knows that story."

"What's a mech?"

"Like a giant robot thing."

"Oh," said James. "Well, you've got it mostly right."

He and Drew looked at each other, smiles growing on their faces. James knew he shouldn't be smiling about an incident that could have put people's lives in danger, but still, it was a shock to hear that their names were still known on the campus and their deeds had gone down in MIST history. James felt his ego flaring up; he'd have to be careful about that. It was nothing compared to the size it had been in college, but sometimes it could get ahead of him.

"Can I get your autographs?" asked the boy.

"Depends on how much you're willing to-"

"Sure," said James, putting a hand on Drew's arm and stopping his response.

"Sweet! Come inside, we have brownies!"

James and Drew followed the boy into the townhouse. Inside, several more college students were sitting around the living room, watching television. They nodded awkwardly to the newcomers. James couldn't help noticing they all looked different than he remembered students looking when he was in college - but then, maybe it was just a matter of perspective. The boy joined his friends in the living room and pointed to their guests. "Guys," he said. "This is James and Drew!"

"Whoa!" said one of the boys, gawking at them. "Like from the Pinky Joe Rampage?"

"That's right!"

The boys leaped up from the couch.

"Can we have your autographs?"

James laughed and nodded as they went off to find something for them to write on. It only took a moment before their fans returned with various pieces of paper and pencils; he was happy to write his autograph, and Drew was definitely enjoying the limelight, too. It was like being a celebrity, at least for a moment. James realized that although he had visited the MIST campus since graduating, he never really talked to current students that much or went around to the dorms and off-campus housing, so he had no idea he'd become a well-known name.

One of the boys bounded back downstairs, having gone up to his room for a moment, and handed James a large poster for _The Memo Pad_, which James assumed the boy had taken down from his wall. Not exactly what he would have expected to be signing, but he didn't judge anyone's taste. As he signed his name along the bottom, he looked around the living room and into the kitchen. The furnishings were different, of course, and it looked like the walls had gotten a new coat of paint or two, but it still brought back memories. He thought about asking to go upstairs and see his old bedroom, but he didn't really want to impose – and he had seen a lot already.

"I think we'd better get back to the campus," said James, partly to their fans and partly to Drew. "Everyone's probably waiting for us." He and Drew had left their loved ones on campus to do other things while they had taken a short visit to their old townhouse before they all returned home.

"Thanks for stopping by!" said the boys. "You know, there's more lab rats on campus you can-"

"Oh, I don't think so," chuckled James. "One out of control cybertronic battlesuit is enough for us!"

Drew did look tempted. Still, if he was going to be a teacher at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology, he couldn't be getting into trouble all over again. The two of them said their goodbyes and headed out the door, walking along the sidewalk beneath the shade of overhanging trees as they strolled through their old neighborhood. It was interesting how James' attitude could change over the course of less than a day. When he had first run into Drew after arriving at the orientation, he had been expecting an unpleasant experience. But after telling his story and remembering so many things about his past, after taking a visit to their old home – even if Drew didn't live there with them for very long – it wasn't so bad at all. He was almost enjoying this little outing with his former friend.

"You know," said Drew, "I'm almost enjoying this."

"Just what I was thinking."

"But don't think it means we're friends again," he clarified quickly.

"No, of course not."

The two of them walked in silence for a while.

"It is funny how our friendship could have been destroyed over something so silly," said James. "I mean, a cybertronic battlesuit – who would have thought that could cause so much drama? And it even turned you into a supervillain."

"That's _not_ what turned me into a supervillain," said Drew testily.

"Oh? What did?"

Drew thought about it, but maybe the question was too complex, because it took him a long time to speak up.

"A lot of things," he said. "It was a long process. Some of it had to do with my father. He died soon after I returned home after being suspended."

James looked over at his friend in surprise; he had never heard that before. He didn't know Drew's father well, but it was hard not to remember Ken Lipsky's stern demeanor, the way he always stood really straight, arms crossed over his chest, like he was deathly afraid of being caught having fun by someone. "I'm sorry," he told Drew.

"That's alright. It was years ago, after all."

"What happened?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

James nodded. That was fair enough.

"But maybe the whole battlesuit fiasco _did_ nudge me in the direction of evil," admitted Drew.

"I thought so!"

"None of you ever recognized my genius, either. It was obvious we were drifting apart before we even finished the battlesuit – and Bob and Ramesh didn't like me for a while before that. I was always the black sheep of our little posse, you know. The odd man out. You three were always laughing at my ideas. Even when I made those robot girlfriends to accompany us to the science mixer, you had to laugh!"

"Come on Drew, you have to admit – you're not that great at making robots."

"Not that – what -" Drew sputtered indignantly. "What do you call that battlesuit, then?"

"Well, it's not exactly a robot, is it?"

"It's close enough. And I did an excellent job on that!"

"I seem to remember I did most of the work on that."

"_Nnnngh!_"

Although they had been enjoying their visit to the townhouse, James could already see their rivalry returning. His own ego had shrunk down a little over the years, but Drew hadn't changed much. Although James wondered if he was being unfair. He couldn't remember just how much work each of them had done on the battlesuit, to be honest. Maybe he _was_ overestimating his own contribution. And while Drew's original robot girlfriends weren't exactly the kind of robots you took home to mother – Bebes, he had called them even then – his more recent Bebes _had_ been impressive.

"Okay," James admitted, "maybe you've gotten a lot better at the robots since college."

"Thank you."

"Let me ask you something, Drew."

"Go ahead."

"You told me you were never going to come back to MIST, but here you are, ready to be a teacher. Why the change of heart? And why did you give up the supervillainy, anyway?"

Drew shrugged. "I realized that people might recognize my genius even if I wasn't trying to take over the world, I suppose. And I was getting a little tired of having my schemes constantly foiled by your bratty teen daughter."

"Hey, now. And she's not a teen anymore, anyway."

"Fair enough. But I suppose I wanted to try something new. And once Shego and I got a little closer, well – I had to think about the future. About family. From what I've read in all the parenting books, it would be hard to raise a child if I was on the run from Global Justice or trying to manage every detail of human society from the top down as a ruthless autocrat. You don't have time to change diapers when you're trying to crush your enemies."

"Good point."

"As for the job offer from MIST, well – it paid well. After I got kind of famous from helping your daughter save the world from the Lorwardians, they were happy to hire me, despite Barker's best attempts to stop them. I had to think about it, but I realized their old insults to me were past, and somehow, having them beg me to teach here was a sign of my ultimate victory. Plus, this lets me be closer to mother, and closer to home."

"Your mother, huh? She still lives here?"

Drew nodded. "I tried to avoid her for a long time, but she has a way of finding me wherever I am. And I suppose now that I'm married to Shego with a baby on the way, I've had family on my mind."

From the sound of it, maybe Drew had finally started to grow up a little. It only took another twenty years or so after college, but better late than never. James was amazed to feel a sense of pride in his old friend. Despite all the trouble Drew had caused his daughter, he tended to think that everybody deserved a second chance. Except maybe show folk. And those psych students, too.

Orientation would soon be over, and James would be heading back to the house with his family. He and Drew certainly hadn't rekindled a friendship after half a day strolling around the MIST campus, but James wondered if they might become more amicable in the future. He'd have to see the man from time to time, probably, since Jim and Tim would be attending the college and taking classes with him. He wondered if was possible to ever be friends with Drew the way they had been in college. You never knew.

XX

Trudging across campus all day had taken its toll; Kim felt herself beginning to huff and puff just a little as she followed her twin brothers around. It was embarrassing, but she was keeping it quiet enough that they didn't notice. Being so far along in her pregnancy was a feeling she had never felt before – not just the pregnancy itself, not just the little kicks and twitches she felt in her belly sometimes, but the effect it had on her ability to get around easily. After freak fighting and cheerleading for years, she wasn't used to being physically restrained like this. It gave her another reason, beyond the obvious, to look forward to Annabelle's birth.

"You're never going to find it," she told her brothers. "And we need to get back to the car soon."

Jim and Tim bounded ahead of her, following the coordinates Wade had just given them on their Communicator. It wasn't Kim's Kimmunicator – they had actually gone on a few missions lately, working with Global Justice once or twice when Kim and Ron opted out. Once Annabelle was born and the two of them spent some time with their infant daughter and started up their missions again, working with her little brothers might be strange. But then, she supposed they were marginally less annoying now that they were full-fledged teenagers. Hopefully college would force them to grow up a little more, too. Although she wondered if her father's story had had the opposite effect of what he had intended.

"Come on, Wade," said Jim, "are you picking it up again already?"

Tim grabbed the Communicator from his brother. "Try harder, dude!"

Wade frowned on the screen. "I could swear I picked it up around here. Just keep going."

They reached the orientation building, where they had listened to Drakken and the Dean give their speeches about the upcoming semester. Some workmen were wheeling folded tables out of the room, and the overflowing metal trash baskets outside the main doors spoke of a long day of new students and their families heading in and out. But the day was almost over, and the sun was sinking lower into the sky. Her father and Drakken were off checking out the townhouse where they had lived when they were students, and Shego – strangely enough – had gone off with her mother to talk about parenting advice. Kim didn't know _how_ she felt about that.

But soon they would all be meeting up at the car, minus Drakken and Shego, of course. She was looking forward to going home and watching some TV on the couch with Ron. Maybe she'd make him go out and get her some takeout Bueno Nacho. Maybe he could stop by the store and get her some pickled eggs, too. She was having an overwhelming craving for those.

"I'm getting it again," said Wade. "Stop right there!"

Jim and Tim stopped in their tracks, only about a dozen yards in front of the orientation building's main entrance. A few straggling people looked at them strangely as they left the building. Wade was silent for a moment, and Jim and Tim pointed the Communicator to the ground as if that would help him. Kim smiled at their enthusiasm.

"Yeah," said Wade. "It's some kind of reading, under the ground. I think there's some kind of technology under there giving off a bunch of signals – maybe there's an entrance in the orientation building."

Jim and Tim were about to race inside the building, with Kim reluctantly following, when they ran straight into Dean Barker coming out the door. He was an old man, but still bulky enough to drop his cane and hold out an arm to each side, blocking the boys' entrance. In the old days they could have run right under his outstretched arms, but now that they were larger than anyone else in the Possible family, there was no way they were getting through. At least not without knocking an old man over, which was out of the question, even if he had come off like a jerk in their dad's story.

"What are _you_ two doing?"

"We just wanted to get inside the orientation building," said Jim.

"Yeah, we're looking for an underground facility that might have a cybertronic battlesuit."

"A what?"

"The cybertronic battlesuit," said Tim. "The one that Pinky Joe took on a rampage through campus."

Dean Barker narrowed his eyes at the two boys. "You two," he said, his voice barely higher than a hiss. "You're James Possible's boys, aren't you?"

"That's right!"

"Well, you're not getting inside this building. Orientation is over, and we've just cleaned everything up."

"Aw, man!"

Dean Barker beckoned to a workman who was standing patiently behind him, waiting to go through the doors. "Go get a padlock and chain," he said. The workman disappeared back into the building.

The dean stood and stared at the two boys as he waited for the workman to return; Kim thought it was a little ridiculous, but then, maybe she was so used to dropping unannounced into lairs over the years that she hadn't thought twice about looking for some hidden complex beneath the campus. Wade definitely seemed to think there was something hidden down there. Jim and Tim glanced at each other impatiently, and they were about to head off in another direction – probably to find a side entrance – when Barker stopped them.

"You two aren't causing any trouble," he said. "I've got my eye on you!"

"We're not even students yet!"

"Yeah," said Tim. "Aren't we supposed to get, like, a tour of the campus?"

"You've had your tour. I can already see you two are going to be just like your father."

Kim nodded. "You're pretty much right." Her brothers turned and glared at her, but she couldn't resist.

"Well," said the dean, "Your stay at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology won't last long, then."

"What do you mean?" asked Jim. "_Dad_ graduated!"

Tim nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and you couldn't even kick him out when you wanted to. He told us all about the whole Pinky Joe thing, and he said the Board of Directors overruled you. You couldn't even stop Drakken from being hired, could you? It sounds like you don't have any power at all."

The dean was deathly silent, glaring at Kim's brothers for what seemed like an eternity. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she could see him shaking almost imperceptibly, like he was suppressing a volcano of rage. Finally, he made a motion like he was about to stoop down and grab his cane from where it had fallen on the ground – but instead, Jim took a quick step forward and picked it up first, handing it to him.

"There you go, sir."

The dean looked like Jim had just sucker punched him in the mouth. As the four of them stood awkwardly at the door, the workman returned from inside with the padlock and chain. The dean took it from him, closing the doors and running the chain through the handles before attaching the padlock. Once it was sealed shut, he turned back to Jim and Tim, pointed from his eyes to their faces to indicate he was, in fact, watching them, and made his way slowly off through one of the hedge-lined paths that led away from the building.

Jim and Tim watched him go with a smile. They were about to head off in another direction when Kim stopped them. "Hold on, you two," she said. "I think we should just head to the car now."

"There's gotta be a side entrance!"

"You guys have your whole college career to cause trouble. I want to go home now."

"Aw, man!"

Kim briefly considered pulling out the puppy dog pout, but decided a simple glare would work well enough. Her brothers joined her as they made their way back to the parking lot. Maybe Wade was right, and there was some kind of underground facility beneath the college – but even then, there was no guaranteeing the battlesuit was still around anymore just because their dad had given it to the university. Maybe MIST had sold it off, or taken it apart. That was decades ago, after all. And if it was still around, she had no doubt that Jim and Tim would find it on campus once they actually became students. There wasn't any point in them powering the thing up and rampaging across campus when they hadn't even started classes yet – could they even get suspended before then?

"I know it's down there," said Jim. "I just _know_ it."

Tim wrung his hands together in anticipation. "College is gonna be great!"

Kim got the feeling her father was going to regret telling her brothers that story.

XX

The mouse had been watching the two boys and the girl talk with the old man. They were blocking his way across the little path in front of the building that led to the drainage hole, so he had to wait for them to stop talking. He held the cheese in his mouth, trying to resist eating it right there under the bushes. He liked to wait until he was underground instead. He felt safer underground. Soon, the boys stopped talking to the old man, who left with his cane clacking on the ground. They were about to come towards the mouse, but the red-haired girl led them off in another direction instead.

The mouse was happy. His path was clear now.

He darted across the little path and through some hedges on the other side until he reached the side of the building. He followed along, going past the building and running through an open patch of grass as fast as he could, just in case any birds were watching. Soon, he went down a little embankment and found the drainage ditch, a trickling stream of water going inside. There was another way to get to where he was going, inside the building where the man and the girl and the boys had been talking, but he used this way sometimes when he didn't want to be noticed. Like when he had a piece of cheese had had stolen from the dining hall.

He scampered into the darkness, using his sense of smell to make his way through. Another pipe off to the side went further down into the ground, and the mouse followed it. Deeper, deeper. He knew he was close to the underground part of the building up above. Soon he found a little tunnel he had dug in the earth and followed _that _until, finally, he reached an old, dusty, narrow crawlspace which ran along behind a wall. He found his little hole in the wood and crawled through. He was there.

Now that he was safe in the underground place he liked to go, he bit into his cheese.

It was delicious.

The most delicious cheese he had ever tasted, although he felt that way about every piece of cheese he ate. A few of his brothers and sisters would be here soon, as they were getting their own cheese from the other building where the humans ate – the lady who guarded the cheese had seen him and he had to run off first, but that meant the rest of them could get their pieces without being seen. He took the time to look around the underground place and wondered what it was for.

He was in a small room, with a lot of dusty filing cabinets lining the walls and a few old desks. Through a door, however, was a much larger room, with metal walls and lots of strange things everywhere – some of them like the cars the humans drove up above, some of them like things he had never seen before. There was one large thing, made of metal, standing on two legs, with a pair of clawed hands and a glass face. It was kind of like a human in shape, but kind of like a mouse, too. He had seen humans looking at it before, and although he could only understand a little bit about what they said, he was pretty sure they had called it a 'battlesuit.'

The mouse could only understand words here and there – but that was still more than most mice could understand. 'Cheese', of course, was his favorite word. He knew there were lots of mice living all over the place, in between the buildings up on the surface, inside them, but he was different. His whole family was different. They were much smarter than the other mice. That was why he kept to his family, mostly. He knew there were some mice in the laboratories in the building above him that were like him, smart, but they were trapped in cages. So he stuck with his family.

His parents had been fascinated by the battlesuit, always coming down here and sniffing at it, crawling over it. He remembered his grandfather had been the same way. For a long time, his whole family had lived down here below the big building up above them, in the dusty areas behind the walls, building little nests of torn up newspaper and anything else they could find that was soft. Food was hard to find here, but the buildings with food – 'dining halls', he always heard humans say that when they came to the buildings – those were not far away. And his family liked it down here. They could go around the campus easier than the other mice, anyway, because they were a lot smarter.

The humans walked around with books all day. In the nest behind the wall, there was a piece of paper with a man's picture on it, which he knew his grandfather had nibbled out of a book a long time ago, cutting it into a square shape with his teeth. There was a boy in the picture, and below him, the name 'James Possible' was printed. His grandfather liked the picture, and so he liked it, too. He knew his grandfather used to know the human, a long time ago. And because his grandfather had visited those labs up above sometimes, the mouse assumed his grandfather had escaped from there before meeting his grandmother. Earlier that day, he had seen the boy in the picture up on the surface – much older, though. He knew the boy was related to the battlesuit, somehow.

He liked the battlesuit, since his parents and his grandfather – before he had died – had also liked it. He didn't know why his family liked it so much. He didn't really know what it was for, either, although it had arms and legs and stood upright, so he wondered if it could walk like the humans did. He could not get into the glass covering on its face to see what was inside, even though he had tried a lot. But he had seen humans come down here every once in a while, and he remembered once they had opened it up, poking at the inside and talking to each other about it.

The mouse would wait, and he would watch, until they came down again. And if they opened it up, he would sneak inside when they weren't looking. Maybe then he would see whether or not it could really walk. And maybe he'd rescue those smart mice up in the laboratory, too. His grandfather was gone, but he knew it would have made him very happy. All he needed was to wait for the right moment.

XX

**The End**

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_**Notes** - Hope you guys enjoyed this story! As always, I appreciate reviews and feedback to see what people thought. __If you aren't already reading it, you might enjoy checking out_ Pater Unfamiliar___, which focuses more on Drakken and his family but goes into some aspects of his college life and relationship with his father that were unexplored in this story. As a matter of fact, I just updated _Pater Unfamiliar___ with a chapter that heavily overlaps with the climax of this story._  


_I'm pretty happy with how this turned out - I wanted to look into James' college life with Drew, Chen, and Ramesh because I thought it would be a lot of fun and hadn't really seen much of that in other KP fan fiction. I also found this to be more interesting (and sometimes challenging) to write than many things I've tried because of the story-within-a-story structure, which I hadn't really done before.  
_

_I would say this story and _Pater Unfamiliar_ are probably my two favorite stories out of what I've written. I suppose James Possible (being a minor character) doesn't exactly draw a crowd, as the total hits on this have been even lower than a lot of my one-shots, but I appreciate all the reviews from you guys. Thanks!  
_


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